Princess Oil Slick
by Zira Angel
Summary: Like some sort of fairytale. Oil Slick/Optimus. And some Megatron and Blitzwing because why not? We love them, too. TFA
1. Chapter 1

So guys, my birthday is coming up, and I felt like uploading a fanfic for you all. It is one that feels really short to me. It is about thirty thousand words, and the sections cut off really fast while we jump to the next part in the timeline really quickly.

This is really showcasing how Tash and I love bizarre crack pairings and aus, and that you guys really don't even know the half of it with how little I upload. So I said to my self, while suffering my usual case of insomnia, "Zira... Know what the readers need? The readers need something to celebrate my birthday. And what better way than with Princess Oil Slick?"

So there you go, readers. Make of that how you will. Obviously, you should draw me art in celebration of my birthday. Draw your favorite scene from the fanfics we write. You are absolutely welcome to join us in the typewith. And if you do join us there, you will get a _completely random finished fic I haven't gotten around to editing just yet._ I will even leave a link in the end of the livejournal entry with this chapter in it. Yeah. _Just for you._ Or if you want, it will be an unfinished story, there are far more of those, and you will have your pick. The finished ones are more of my choice, and you get to deal with me going, "I will be deciding that, buddy." Just so you know.

But as I was saying, this is Princess Oil Slick, you all know I love Oil Slick, right? No? Yes? No? No. No. I can't believe I never told you this. I mean, it is in my formspring. I mean, I haven't gotten any questions on it in three months, so it is unlikely any of you even know about it, but _still_. You should know these things. The link to it is in my profile now.

What am I even talking about? Have a fanfic about gay robots. Everybody loves gay robots. Yeah.

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

Queen Glitterfrost was the most beautiful femme in all the lands. She had armor as shining frost-white as the snow-capped peaks of the mountains, armor that glittered in the sunlight. She had curves that drove mechs to whimpering, and a kindess in her spark that complemented her bondmate's intensity and viciousness.

Queen Wildstar was almost Glitterfrost's opposite. Her armor was pitch-black, with golden sunbursts on it, to stop her from fading completely into the shadows like some nightmare creature. A femme's curves were present on her frame, but her armor was pointed and sharp where Glitterfrost's was rounded and smooth. Her claws had hooks in them, all the better for rending a mech piece by piece into scrap. But while she was rough with those in her kingdom, and far less inclined to selfless acts of kindness, she was still a very fair queen. Their subjects did not chafe under her rule, and they appreciated her willingness to go to war for them.

In the kingdom of Haydon IV-there was a joke there, about the three Haydons that had come before, but no mech who wished to keep his optics made it in front of the queens, as it was rather lewd and obscene-only femmes could inherit the throne. They were, the people believed, after viewing those kingdoms where mechs had been given control, the best option for leadership.

Wildstar and Glitterfrost's family lines had both bred true for many generations, as long as either could recount from the history pads. They had always given birth to femme sparklings, and any mechs came third or fourth in line, if at all.

When Glitterfrost had noticed the tiny blob of a sparkling on her spark, there had been much rejoicing in the kingdom, happy that their queens were finally having an heir to the throne.

They had been very careful, giving their sparkling as much energy and love as possible, refusing medical exams of her because of the superstition that an examined sparkling would become a mech. It was not much of a superstition, and an unwise one at that, but with the energy they were offering her, Wildstar did not force Glitterfrost to see a medic.

Perhaps they should have.

Glitterfrost lay on the medical berth, blissed out on the chemical cocktail they had given her to prevent her spark from feeling any pains as they extracted the sparkling from her sparkchamber. Wildstar linked servos with her, giving her what support she could as their little sparkling was brought into the world.

Her first act was crying out with dismay at the separation, and Wildstar smiles. It is a good sign when your daughter has such strong vocals so very young.

The medicbot was also a femme, as was traditional, and she carefully examined the sparkling for any defects, finally pushing open her tiny sparkplates to examine her sparkhealth.

When the medicbot froze in place, Wildstar could feel her spark shrinking with terror. "What?" she demands.

The medicbot vents, "I am so terribly sorry to tell you this, my queens, but-"

"Is . . is my sparkling okay?" Glitterfrost asks, worry penetrating her drugged haze.

"Yes. Your sparkling is very healthy. A very healthy _mech_."

They look at each other in terror, and Wildstar takes charge, as she is very used to doing, and makes a decision that has long reaching concequences. "_Femme_. She is a _femme_."

The medic gives her a nervous look, "But, your majesty, he wo-"

Wildstar raises a servo, aware that the mechs in both of their lines normally did not act like a femme at all - the perfect mechs, really. Soft spoken and submissive. "_She_ will be raised correctly. She may know what she really is, but we keep it silent and hidden. She will be bonded to another femme so that the line may continue in the proper way."

Glitterfrost takes her love's servo, sqeezing it tightly, "We should try raising her like a proper femme first. To see if she takes to it."

"Yes, my light," Wildstar promises her, lifting their servos to kiss Glitterfrost's claws. Rumor had it that Wildstar had been completely black-armored until she had met Glitterfrost, and then love had made the golden bursts of light appear on her. It was only rumor. Wildstar had been onlined with her armor that way, but it did no harm to let the people have their legends. "She will take after you, I hope."

Glitterfrost takes their sparkling from the medic's servos and cradles him against her chest. "She has your colors more than mine. Let us hope she will be a very strong femme." The tiny mech looks up at her with wide, green optics, and lets out a little curious noise, pressing his tiny little servos against her chest. "I think she's hungry. Get me the sparkling energon." She offers him a claw to suck on, and he whines when it doesn't give him any fuel. "She's so tiny. So dark-armored. Can we call her Oil Slick?"

Wildstar presses a kiss to Glitterfrost's then the sparkling's head, "Yes. Oil Slick is a wonderful name for our little princess."

* * *

Oil Slick always felt very uncomfortable in her armor, she didn't feel _right_ and she doesn't know why. She's felt this way for a very long time. Ever since she was old enough to think about how it felt wrong, really. It is like something in her armor that makes her want to peel it off and scratch until it is gone. But she's finally going to _ask_ what is wrong.

She moves into the medical bay, looking up at the medic that has been taking care of her problems for as long as she can remember and asks, "Red Alert? What is wrong with me?"

The medic looks down at her in amusement, "I don't know. What's wrong with you?" She's picked up and set on the medical berth, "Are you hurt?"

She shakes her head, looking down at the ground, "No. I just... I feel wrong."

Red Alert hums softly, claws gentle on Oil Slick's frame, "Is the new mode we put you in giving you trouble? You look so much prettier in it, but if it feels wrong, we should change you back."

"No." Oil Slick twitches her hip panels away from Red Alert's claws. "I like it." She really likes her shoulder decoration, with its pretty curly horns and the big pink bow on it. "But I'm wrong." She wiggles as Red Alert prods at her hip panels, trying to twitch them out of the way again.

"'Wrong' doesn't help me very much, sparkling. Do you want to tell me what part of you feels wrong?"

She wiggles on the medical berth, trying to find the right words for her feelings of wrongness. "All of me. I . . I feel like I don't fit in my armor."

Red Alert frowns at her, "That sounds like you're having troubles with the new mode. I'm going to ha-"

Oil Slick pulls away from the touch to her seams, "No!" She crosses her arms, holding herself tightly, "_Always_ felt wrong!"

The medic gives her a confused look, "_How_ do you feel wrong? What's the problem?"

She wishes she knew how to say it, but she doesn't know the words or how to explain. All she knows is that she isn't right. Something is wrong, and she doesn't know how. She's wrong, and nothing is right.

She kicks her peds petulantly, angry that she doesn't know how to explain it. Red Alert watches her for a klik, and then sighs. "I think I may know what is wrong, sweetspark. I should com your creators first. You'll want them here."

One of the first things Oil Slick had learned as a sparkling was to not run into the throne room or com her creators if they were busy with meetings. "Okay." She kicks her peds again, waiting while Red Alert calls her creators and says something to them about how it has 'finally happened.' She wonders what 'it' is. And why Red Alert won't tell her without her creators.

When they show up, she's pulled into their laps, and Glitterfrost rocks her back and forth, "I'm so sorry, sparkling. We were hoping you'd be one of the ones that didn't mind."

She's _really_ confused now, unsure what to say. Red Alert crosses her arms, ped tapping on the floor, "Oil Slick doesn't know exactly, but insists that she's 'wrong' somehow. That is a classic symptom for her gender identity disorder because of what you've insisted on."

Oil Slick squirms in her creators' arms, trying to move away as politely as she can, just like she'd been trained. "Gen-der iden-ti-ty dis-order?" she asks, sounding it out, and wondering what it means.

"We're sorry, sparkling," Glitterfrost coos at her, holding her tightly, "but we had to do it. We were going to wait until you were older to tell you."

Oil Slick squirms harder, trying to see anything other than Glitterstar's chest armor. "Mama, what do you mean?" She plants her servos flat against Glitterstar's armor and pushes away. "Tell me what?"

Wildstar kneels down to look her in the optics. "When you were onlined, they told us you had a mech's spark. Mechs cannot inherit the throne, sweetspark. We want you to take over when we're gone."

Oil Slick feels her optics prickling with lubricants, "You're going away?"

She's pulled into a tighter hug by both of her creators, and rocked even more. She really wishes they'd let her go, it is getting a little hard to vent since they have several covered. Glitterfrost exclaims, "No! No, sparkling, no! Not at all. We're going to be with you as long as we can. You don't need to worry about that."

She manages to wriggle out of their arms, "I'm a mech?" Something about that feels right, but she still feels a tiny bit uncomfortable with it. She's been a femme for as long as she remembers, and her mamas want her to be one. What if they don't love her anymore because of this? She doesn't want them to hate her because she couldn't be what they want her to be.

She can feel her face get wet with optical lubricants, and she tries to wipe them away without her creators seeing. Wildstar notices, and pulls out a polishing cloth to clean her face. "Yes, sweetspark, you're a mech. A mech that we love very much, but you can't let anyone know."

Oil Slick doesn't understand, "Wh-why? Why am I a mech? Why can't I tell anyone?" She twitches her hip panels, "Why do I l-look like a femme?"

Glitterfrost pets her frame, soothing her with her warm, gentle touches. "We modded you, sweetspark, so you would look more like a femme. We didn't have to mod very much, because your frame was already very femme-like."

She looks down at her servos, her claws aren't like a normal femme's at all, but she never thought about it. She'd always thought that she got them from her mama Wildstar, but now that she knows, she realizes they are _mech_ claws. She knows how true it is, and something in her spark rejoices at the knowledge. Wrapping her arms around herself, she asks softly, "Do I _have_ to keep it a secret?" She knows she can, but she... _he_ wants nothing more than to shout it to everyone that he knows what he is.

He's tugged into Mama Wildstar's lap, and Glitterfrost pets him more, "You do, sparkling. I'm sorry, but it will keep you safe. We're going to be stepping up your training on how to act properly because of this."

Oil Slick whines. He hates lessons on proper behavior, because it always is boring and awful and now he wants to play the part of the mech. At least now he knows why his mamas have always told him that he would bond with a femme. When he's older, he'll be able to act like a mech in private.

He still doesn't want to have to take more lessons.

* * *

Countless failed lessons later, his creators have decided to allow Oil Slick to play the somewhat unusual role of a demure, shy femme. He's much better suited for it, because he has never gotten the hang of ordering mechs around.

So he's allowed to hide behind his Mamas' legs when they rise to greet the monarchs from the foreign land.

They're both mechs, and Oil Slick stares at them around Mama Glitterfrost's armor, as Mama Wildstar greets them, "Welcome to Haydon IV, Steelbolt, Powerdrive. I was told that you brought your sparkling as well, the one you have done so well in hiding from the public optic. But I do not see him present."

Steelbolt, an imposing, steel-grey bot, smiles at them. "It has been a very long journey, and we wanted our Optimus to be safe. His appearance has been kept secret for a reason you will soon realize."

Powedrive pulls out a tiny box and flips a switch on it, and the device hums as it powers down. Then Oil Slick's optics widen and his mamas gasp as a cloaking shield is dropped and the little sparkling mech revealed to them.

He's all transparent and shiny.

Oil Slick's mamas gently push him out from behind them to greet the other sparkling, "Go say hello, sweetspark." They return their focus to Optimus's creators, and Oil Slick wonders if he can just run for it.

He knows he can't, though. He's being watched and judged on how well he does this. He holds out his servo, seeing if the mech has been trained how to respond to it, and Optimus takes it and kisses it. He can hear his creators saying something about a crystal mech, but all he can tell about Optimus is that the bot has his spark on display. He wishes _his_ spark was being shown so bots knew he was a mech, but he has to keep it hidden.

He murmurs to the other sparkling softly, "Hello, Optimus. It is nice to meet you."

Optimus beams at him, pretty clear-blue lips spread into a wide smile, "It is nice to meet you too, Oil Slick."

Oil Slick reaches out and gently touches Optimus's sparkplates, watching his spark pulse underneath the armor. "You have a pretty spark. I like it."

Optimus's faceplates heat up, and Oil Slick jerks away, embarrassed that he had said anything like that. "Thank you, Oil Slick. That's very nice."

The cyclebot shifts on his peds until Steelbolt says, "Come over here, Optimus. Glitterfrost and Wildstar want to see you." The other sparkling walks over to the throne, and Oil Slick takes that as his cue to flee, and he runs out of the room the moment their attention is off of him, fleeing into the crystal garden maze.

He knows he might get in trouble for doing this, but he really _hates_ being in the throne room. It is too big, too filled with bots staring at him, too everything. He can't be in there for too long. He's just glad that since they stopped training him up to be a proper femme, this sort of behavior is encouraged. Hiding is very becoming for a young princess when he doesn't want to be seen. He was presented formally, so he's allowed to be nowhere near them when they stop looking.

It is part of his training that he's getting from his ninjabot tutor. How to disappear in plain sight and to be more comfortable in his modded frame. He still isn't used to how they replaced his faceplates to something more suitable. He misses his nose, but it was getting too large and brings question on if he's a femme or not. He can't wait for him to leave the planet to be himself.

He will still present himself as a femme in public when he's on the planet his bonded is on, but he can act more like a mech in private. He hopes the femme he's given to loves him, the idea of being in a loveless bonding hurts his spark. He wants a bonded that knows how to take care of him. He'll be so much happier then.

Oil Slick settles down in front of a mass of crystals that glow brilliantly when bots are near them. They were often used as sentry crystals, placed around the entrances to a home, to alert bots when an intruder was trying to enter. Now they're just pretty crystals he likes to curl up against because they're warm.

Light pulses all around him, and Oil Slick pulls out a datapad to read, full of his favorite sparkling stories, with words that aren't too complicated for him to understand. He likes understanding what he reads.

He's interrupted a little bit later by the crystals brightening alarmingly. So bright, they hurt his optics. He dims his receptors, and rubs at his optics to get rid of the pain. There's a sound of tiny peds on the ground, loud crunching on the special gravel set out to let them know even ninjabots are here.

"H-hello?" comes a soft call that sounds like the see-through sparkling. He can't really tell, since his optics are still hurting, and it is hard to tell when he's against the crystal. "I was told to go play with you, Princess."

He stands up, putting the datapad in his tiny subspace, and walks towards the sound. He ends up walking into the bot, since the light is really far too bright to let him turn up his optics, "Then let's move to a different place. The alarm light crystal is doing something is sho-"

The other sparkling interrupts him, "They do that around me. We had to remove ours because of it."

"Oh." He pulls the sparkling away from the crystal, even though his instincts are telling him not to be so demanding. He doesn't want the bright light anymore, and if he has to pull the sparkling, he will. "Over here." He shows Optimus a place made of tall, rounded crystals, which Oil Slick likes to climb on. "These ones don't light up." Oil Slick has often wondered if his vocal processor has been modded too, because his vocal range is normal for femmes. His creators say that they haven't modded it at all.

Optimus keeps hold of his servo when they are there, and he wants to pull away, but doesn't since he kind of likes being tugged along. "Do you have any red cora crystal? I like being in those."

He lets himself be pulled a little closer, and shakes his head, "No. You shouldn't be in it, either. Older bots can't go near it, and if you get hurt you wouldn't be able to be safe." He was shown what a tiny little piece of it in a bot's energon does. That mech was writhing on the floor for a _very_ long time, begging to be allowed to open his plates when his mamas had Oil Slick in their laps to explain what was going on. They said the mech wasn't hurt, but it still made a very large impression on him. He's never going to hide in the red cora.

Red cora does terrible things to adult bots. Terrible things.

So he stays away.

Oil Slick sits on the rounded crystals which the gardenerbots have been kind enough to reshape so he can perch on them the way he likes. Optimus sits beside him, fingers still laced with his claws, and he's very careful not to scratch the bot. He doesn't know how fragile his armor is.

"Do you get hurt easily?" he asks, wondering if the bot has to be very careful when he plays.

Optimus shakes his head, "No. I'm Allspark-blessed. My armor is hard enough that I get dented like normal sparklings do."

He nods, unsure what else to do. He isn't allowed to get dirty as he plays, but he knows that other sparklings seem to relish being as dirty as possible. He doesn't want to have his armor all scratched up, even if he loves his nightly solvent bath coming a little early. He pulls out his datapad again, "Want to read with me?" He hopes Optimus can read. One of the other sparklings that was brought for him to play with wasn't able to. She seemed to take a great amount of joy in shoving him around and loudly declaring how stupid reading was.

He didn't mind the shoving so much, but he disliked being told he shouldn't read.

Optimus looks at the datapad with interest, "What stories do you have?"

"A lot of them." Most of them about femmes saving the sol, or rescuing mechs in distress. He likes to imagine himself as the mech sometimes, with some pretty mystery femme saving him and then declaring to the entire world that he was her mech and she wasn't ashamed that he was a mech. "Do you have any favorites?"

Optimus scrolls through the stories and frowns, "I don't know most of these. Most of the ones I get told are about the Allspark and the High Priestess."

He leans on the other sparkling, "Would you like to read them with me?"

Optimus puts a arm around his waist, and he snuggles close, liking how warm the bot is. Most sparklings aren't nearly as warm as Optimus is, but he guesses that's because Optimus is Allspark blessed. "That'd be nice. What is your favorite?"

He isn't allowed to show off his very favorite, since it is one he modified to have the mech prince_ss_ saved by the dashing and pretty femme from the monster of the story, but he can do one of the ones about a femme saving the sol.

"Once upon a time, there was a very pretty mech who lived in a very pretty castle," Oil Slick begins, and Optimus cuddles against him as he continues. He likes the bot so far, even if Optimus thinks he's a femme.

* * *

**Please Review**

Just to recap, my birthday is coming up, I'm updating this as much as possible because I've got all of this edited. You heard me. All of it because... birthday. Yeah.

Check out my formspring in my profile.

Please review. We love reviews. We really, really, _really_ do.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two, Yeah! This one is all about Megatron and Blitzwing. We love the Blitzwing/Oil Slick pairing the most. You'll find that out the more I upload, but... effort is not my main game. Not when I'm on so much anti-migraine meds.

Remember, this is being uploaded for my birthday on Monday 8D Even though this will be done by then. Be sure to check out the typewith.

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

Oil Slick thinks it's weird, the way Lord Megatron keeps staring at him. Sure, he's just recently hit bot puberty, and has had to undergo several more mods to his frame and his vocal processor to keep him looking like a proper femme, but that doesn't explain the staring.

Maybe it's the chains he has draped along his hip panels, the chains that make his spark pulse a little. He'd been inappropriately interested in having them used _on_ him during his lessons, and he had been given training for that instead. His creators had been less than pleased.

He supposes he shouldn't keep petting the chains, but they're so small and delicate, he can't keep his claws off. He liked the larger chains that were used on him in the lesson, but these are wonderful as a decoration and to show what he'd be happy to have when he finally gets bonded. He hopes the bot that gets him, he isn't sure if it will be a femme now since both Optimus and Lord Megatron are in the running, will chain him down for the first time they 'face.

He was told that traditionally the first time is very vanilla, but he would happily throw that out in favor of being slowly chained down and used until he can't move for want of energon. The very thought of it makes his spark warm and comfortable.

He still wishes Megatron wouldn't look at him like that, though. It makes him deeply uncomfortable to be looked at so very closely.

Shifting from ped to ped, Oil Slick finally gets his claws away from the chains, and realizes he has missed out on just about everything his creators and Megatron have been saying. He hopes it's not important.

It doesn't help that there's a really attractive triple-changer standing off to Megatron's side, also staring at him and his chains. Or a sexy seeker on the other side, and all three of them look like they want to shove him down and use him for ages. He shivers a bit, and wishes he could hide behind his creators still, but he's too old for that kind of thing now.

It would be nicer if he was smaller, so he could hide behind their legs again, and be allowed to stare back at the triple-changer just as openly. He's _never_ seen a triple-changer before this, and he wants to go sit on the mech and ask him to transform. The bot has a pretty blue face with odd optics. He would like to touch the bot all over, see how he's made.

Instead, he stares at the floor, holding his servos together tightly. He is forcing his blush a little, to encourage the bots to think he's very embarrassed to even be looked at. He jumps slightly in startlement - a move that his ninjabot tutor wishes he'd stop doing but he keeps since it makes him look more fragile - when Mama Wildstar claps her servos sharply to bring out his little sister.

His femme sibling is going to be ruling Hadron IV instead of him, since he will never be the type of bot that the planet looks for in a ruler. Not just because he's a mech, but because of his training to be the perfect demure little princess. He _likes_ being a princess, and this kind even more. A shy and demure prince is still expected to go out and fight and do other things he has no real interest in. The way he is now means he can do what he loves.

Oil Slick loves singing and science, and sitting in a quiet place to read datapads without being interrupted by every passing bot. He likes his privacy, and he likes making deadly, dangerous chemicals. If he has to fight, he doesn't want to use a weapon like princes must. He wants to learn to use chemicals the way he knows he could, if the tutors only allowed him access to things more dangerous than basic solutions. The one time he'd made something dangerous, it had been taken from him immediately.

Wildstar had praised his creativity.

Glitterfrost had tisked at him and told him to focus his energies on other things.

He only sort of does that now, but he still spends as much time in the labs as he can. Even if he wants to spend more time in it, and he's pulled out if he does too much.

He is interrupted from his thoughts by Lord Megatron stepping closer, "I am told that you have a crystal maze," that maze has actually grown a very great deal since he was a sparkling, since Optimus's visits always seemed to make it accelerate in expansion, "and I'd love to go through it with you."

Ah, so he's expected to make up for his inattention by one on one interaction with Megatron. Well, not _really_ one on one interaction, his ninjabot tutor, Powerhug, will be watching to make sure nothing untoward happens, since the mech isn't allowed to pull anything like a botnapping or kissing him when he refuses.

And he will refuse any advances. Despite having a ninjabot tutor, Oil Slick is not promiscuous. He plans to wait for an important bot, one he truly likes. His creators would rather he wait until bonding, but Oil Slick doesn't really know if he should. As Powerhug had advised, it is wise to test a spaceship's engine before purchasing it.

It would be terribly disappointing to find his partner unable to interface properly.

Oil Slick is shocked by Megatron suddenly reaching out and stroking his shoulder decoration. "Would you do me the honor of escorting me through the maze?"

He manages to stop himself from yanking away, but does let himself flinch at that, "I..." He looks at his creators, who are giving him a very stern look, "Yes." He takes Megatron's arm, "I'd love to." He wishes his creators didn't force him into this, since the unwanted touch doesn't speak well for Megatron's intentions. He can see in the bot's optics how Megatron would very much like to just find a secluded spot in the maze to use his spark.

The bot allows himself to be guided, "I hear this is the most extensive royal maze short of the one on Odessyx. I am really looking forward to it." Megatron's voice sends tiny shivers of longing and fear through his spark.

"Prince Optimus comes to visit a great deal. His blessed frame encourages the growth."

"Ah. I have seen vids of him, but his creators have been unwilling to venture into Decepticon territory as of yet." Megatron shifts his arm out of Oil Slick's grasp, and then wraps it around Oil Slick's waist. "The crystals here are lovely." The giant pervbot starts to stroke his hip panels as they walk. "Do you have a favorite place? I have heard that you enjoy being alone."

Oil Slick blushes-an honest blush now, because Megatron had just _groped_ his aft-and stutters, "Y-yes. I have several places in the maze where I enjoy sitting and reading datapads."

Megatron's optics dim, "Would you like to show me them?"

The bot's touches are far too bold, especially since they have only just stepped into the maze. He isn't sure how to pull away, though. He wasn't trained for this, and his spark is sputtering in his chest, kind of afraid of the touch. Something in him doesn't trust the bot to keep away if he says no to advances. "I... I..." He wants to pull away, and he's groped again, "I ... yes?" He doesn't want to, but he doesn't know how to refuse.

Megatron smiles at him, and releases his hips and aft, stepping a respectful distance away. "Lead on, Princess. I look forward to seeing the quiet, _private_ places that you enjoy." His optics shift over to a shadow, where Powerhug is hiding. "It is so difficult to get time alone with a bot such as yourself. I hope to make the best of it."

Oil Slick tenses, wondering how the bot knows he's being watched. How he knows exactly where Powerhug is. "Y-yes. That will be . . nice."

He flinches a bit as his servo is taken, "Maybe I could... read to you. Since you said you enjoy datapads."

He's not bringing Megatron to his more private areas. He has several because Powerhug told him that having a backup is the best plan, and he's glad he listened to the advice. He doesn't want Megatron to look through his more private datapads. He isn't worried about Optimus doing that, but the truckbot is so noble that he has to initiate being cuddled on his own _every single time_. He hopes that he doesn't get bonded to Optimus, even if he considers the prince his best friend. Their preferences for intimacy seems very out of touch.

It doesn't seem like it would be terrible to be bonded to Megatron, but the bot is so . . . forward in his advances. So . . morally ambiguous. It seems like he might do anything to get the goal he wants to reach. Oil Slick isn't sure if he likes that or not.

The servo was back on his waist.

"You spend quite a lot of time with Prince Optimus out in the maze, do you not?" Megatron asks casually. "Are you monitored by your guardians during that time?" _Are you still innocent_ is what the mech clearly means to ask, and Oil Slick ducks his head.

"We have had many unmonitored visits." He would let the monarch make of that what he would. Especially since he was a sparkling at that time. He _has_ only just recently reached puberty.

Megatron hums softly in thought for a moment, "And what do you think of Prince Optimus?"

He knows the bot means how much he wants to 'face Optimus, but he can take it another way. "I had thought we were going to talk about the crystal maze, not about one of your fellow suitors."

Megatron makes a slightly amused sound, "You have credited Prince Optimus as the reason the maze has grown so well. I just thought he'd be a safe topic."

He's not going to let the bot use him as a way to get to Oddesyx, since he knows the Decepticons have been trying to figure out a way to get to the normally neutral planet. "Not in the way you are asking."

"I see." Megatron ducks his head a bit, "I apologize if I've upset you, Princess." They slow in front of a quiet crystal alcove, with a delicately sculpted crystal bench that Oil Slick sits on.

It is, unfortunately, large enough for Megatron to sit beside him on it. And pull Oil Slick up against his side.

And squeeze his hip panels. "You look lovely in this light, Princess," Megatron says in a low, deep voice. "It makes me think very inappropriate things about you. About how lovely you would look with your servos chained to this bench."

Oil Slick's engine revs.

Megatron's servos drift along his frame, "How you'd act if I pinned you flat, so you couldn't move."

He revs a little louder, optics flickering with want.

One of the chains on his hip panels is played with, "Use these on you, and you'd have to control yourself so they don't break."

He knows he should be pulling away at this, but the idea of it makes his engine roar and spark hot and wanting.

The servos move to his legs, touching transformation seams, "Maybe if we do this more than once, I will bring out something even more delicate, to match your frame all the be-"

Powerhug is suddenly in front of them, arms crossed, "I'm going to have to cut this short."

Megatron smiles, "Good evening, Powerhug. I find it rather amusing that you are acting as chaperone. Wasn't it only a few decavorns ago that you got removed from your last post for interfacing with a bot you were supposed to be chaperoning?"

The ninjabot narrows his optics, "You know that is not what happened, Megatron. I would like it if you didn't spread rumors about me."

Megatron's fingers run along Oil Slick's hip panels, toying with the chains there, "So you _didn't_ fra-"

Powerhug tugs him out of Lord Megatron's arms, and he blinks in confusion. The ninjabot is between him and Megatron, "I believe that your time with the princess is finished, Lord Megatron. She will be escorted out by me, and someone will be along shortly to help you find your way as well. Please stay here so you do not get lost."

Megatron gives him an amused smile. "Yes, of course. I do hope that her creators know that you interfaced the last bot you were watching over."

Oil Slick is tugged away, and he glances at Powerhug, "Did you really interface a bot you were chaperoning?"

There's a long, slow sigh for a response, and he's pulled towards the house. "Yes. I did. But the circumstances were . . unique. He was to be bonded to a bot he did not care for, and we happened to pass a bit too close to red cora, and . . things happened."

Oil Slick moves a bit closer, murmuring softly, "If... if _I_ am to be bonded to a bot I do not like, would you do that with me?" He likes Powerhug, and the ninjabot would very likely work through the haze of cora to put chains on him.

Powerhug looks at him for a long moment, "... If it was a bot you found truly distasteful, I wouldn't even need the red cora."

He wraps his arms around his tutor in a quick hug, murmuring softly, "Thank you."

He gets an optic roll in response, "Don't thank me, Princess. You're going to have to deal with Blitzwing now. He needs to be distracted, and you're the best bet for it. The bot is insane, but you've had enough training to know how to get away safely."

"Blitzwing?" He tips his head to one side, trying to recall which bot that is.

"The triple-changer. He is reportedly a very good knight, and should not take advantage of you in any way. I will still be watching you, of course. I would not let you face such a bot alone."

Oil Slick's spark pulses a little, thinking about the sexy curves and angles of the triple-changer, and his pretty, pretty wings. "Oh. Thank you. I . . appreciate that."

He is lead to where the bot is stomping along the crystal path, and is gently pushed towards the mech. Powerhug does a last second smoothing of his panels so the chains hang right, "Just be careful, princess."

He walks over to the triple-changer cautiously, and looks up at the bot that towers over him. He knows that Megatron is taller, but he can barely tell that from the angle he's at even if they were standing side by side. He stands a little bit further away so he doesn't have to crane his neck as much, "Sir Blitzwing?"

The mech freezes his pacing, and _flips faces_ so that he's back to the blue one Oil Slick had seen before, rather than the angry red one he just had on. "Ah, Princess Oil Zlick, I did not see you zere. Did you need somezing?"

He blushes, his spark pulsing hot and fast at the accent. Primus, it was a hot accent. "I just wanted to make sure you were well, Sir Blitzwing. You seemed upset."

Blitzwing flips to his red face, "Ja, zat is because zat fragger was off molesting you and zat is no way to treat a proper princess!" He flips back to his blue face, "I do hope he did not dishonor you too badly, Princess."

Oil Slick bites his lip, trying not to laugh. "I am fine, Sir Blitzwing. Thank you for worrying about me."

The mech nods once, "Zat is good, Princess. I would not want you to be hurt because of my Lord Megatron's carelessness on zese matters."

He gestures to the bench, encouraging the mech to sit, "You do not need to worry about that. I have my chaperone to keep things in check. Please, sit." Even if he was dangerously close to unlocking at the idea of tiny little chains holding him down.

Blitzwing looks reluctant, "I could not take ze only seat, Princess."

He _really_ adores that accent. "There is plenty of room for the both of us."

"Zat would not be appropriate, Princess. We have not known each ozer long enough, and zere is no chaperone visible to discourage any inappropriate touches."

Oil Slick gestures at the shadows, and Powerhug steps forward into the light.

Blitzwing stares at him, and then nods, "If you wish, we could share ze bench, but we should not touch. It would be too much of a possible temptation. I am known for my interest in chaining mechs down. To find a femme covered in chains puts my motives under suspicion."

"You like chaining bots down?" He _really_ wants to sit on the bot now, and he was planning on just sitting next to him before.

Blitzwing gets on the bench reluctantly, "Ja. I do not really want a femme to chain down, since..." The bot trails off for a moment before looking away, "You are far too young and innocent for me to say why."

He sits on the bench, scooting a little bit closer, "I am old enough to learn the advanced bondage techniques I will have used on me when I am bonded. And that would be a very good case for me not being innocent."

Blitzwing revs loudly, and he leans away, "I . . zat is not an appropriate subject, meine Princess." he blanches, "No, not _meine_, I did not mean zat." He takes to his peds and waves his servos, "Please do not take offense at zat."

Oil Slick is _really_ having a hard time not laughing now. Blitzwing is trying so hard to be a good knight, and Oil Slick is acting like a terrible temptress. He leans towards the bot, trying to put his sparkplates on display, the way the shameless femmes in his stories would. "I do not mind the informality, Blitzwing."

The mech straightens, optics darting to his plates before moving away with two spots of blush high on his cheeks, "I do, Princess Oil Zlick. It is not somezing I should be saying."

He adores how the bot says his name, "You can just call me Oil Slick." He considers climbing into the bot's arms, but he imagines that won't encourage the triple-changer to take advantage of him. "I wouldn't mind."

There's a flipping of the mech's face, a brief stop on a black faceplate with red optics and a large mouth before returing to the blue face, "Nein, Princess. I could not."

Oil Slick stands, and approaches him, and even with his very long limbs, it is difficult for him to touch Blitzwing's face. "How many of these do you have, Sir Blitzwing? I have seen three so far."

The triple-changer makes a soft noise and leans into the touch. "I have zree faces, Princess. My Lord Megatron has given zem names, to make it easier to tell zem apart. Ze face I wear for you now is called 'Icy,'" the bot ducks his blue face down, bashful. "Ze red face is Hothead."

"And the black and red face?" Oil Slick lets his claws trace over Blitzwing's features.

"Random."

He touches the mech's faceplates, dipping into the slightly open space of the helmet, "Why is it called that?"

Blitzwing's venting is slightly shallow, "Because wiz zat one, I do whatever whim takes me. It is not a safe side of me to be near sometimes."

He wonders if the Random aspect would try to kiss him. "What do you mean?"

The triple-changer moves away as his claws get a tiny bit more adventurous, "I am more inclined to do zings I should not do. I would be just as likely to attack as I am to protect. It is not a face zat I would trust myself to be wiz around you, Princess."

So it would either try to kiss him or possibly throw him down and use him. Well, he wouldn't object to a kiss. "What must I do to provoke this face out?" At Blitzwing's worried look, he clarifies, with a lie, "So I can avoid accidentally bringing it forward?"

The triple-changer backs away from him again as Oil Slick advances forward. "Zat is not somezing zat you need worry about, Princess. I have him under control, and zere are very few zings zat can bring him forward. None which you should accidentally stumble across."

He takes a step closer, and Blitzwing moves away again. "But what if I do? I would hate to say it and not know to be prepared for the change. You haven't let me see more than a flash of Random. You said you could attack me if that happens. I'd want to know that you won't do anything."

Icy shakes his head, backing away more as Oil Slick continuess the slow chase, "Nein. You will not need to worry, Princess. Hothead is ze most dangerous one for attacking, and you did not come to harm when I was him."

He flickers his optics, walking a little closer and wondering if he can somehow manage to corner the mech, "But I should still be allowed to know, Sir Blitzwing. Do you have triggers for all three of your faces?"

"Ja. Some. I tend to move to Icy when someone gives me an order. I move to Hothead when I am angry." He steps back, and Oil Slick feels triumph when the bot ends up backed against one of the dark crystal hedges. "Random is far more . . random."

Oil Slick presses himself up against Blitzwing's form. "I see. And you say he would . . . attack me?" He lets Blitzwing know just how unlikely that sounds.

"In... In a manner of speaking, ja." The triple-changer looks slightly uncomfortable, and Oil Slick adores how _hot_ the bot's chest is. "I zink zat..."

He flickers his optics, "Yes, Sir Blitzwing?"

Blitzwing is flipping back and forth between Icy and Random, and Oil Slick watches in anticipation. He leans forward, rubbing their chests together just a tiny bit. He's hoping the bot stops on Random, so he can get a kiss and hear what all three of the personalities sound like. The bot finally stops, ending on the face that he wants when there's a sound behind them, and an abrupt change back to Icy.

Making a small, hurt sound, he then hears Megatron's deep voice say sarcastically, "Failing in your duties again, Powerhug?"

Blitzwing pushes himself away from Oil Slick quickly, standing sharply at attention, "Ze fault was mine, my liege, and I accept any punishment zat-"

"Oh, please, Blitzwing, do not waste my time with your apologies. I can hardly blame you for wanting a taste of the Princess." His optics dim. "I hope he did not upset you, little femme."

As infuriating as it may be to be called that, his spark still flutters a little, because Megatron has a voice that is pure sin and promise, and it makes him think of those chains again. "I am fine."

Megatron nods at him, and then turns to his knight, "Come, Blitzwing. I have received word that Sir Lugnut has decided to lead an assault on an Autobot world again, because of some perceived insult to my name. We must bid the queens farewell and take an early leave."

The triple-changer nods, "Yes, my liege." The bot turns to him, bowing low, "I apologize for my forwardness, Princess."

He holds out his servo to be kissed, and murmurs softly, "There is nothing to forgive, Sir Blitzwing. But if you insist on saying your sorry, all that is needed is for you to call me by my name." He had been sad to only hear it said in that wonderful accent only a few times."

"Princess Oil Zlick."

He shakes his head, "No. Just my name. You do not need a title, Sir Blitzwing."

"Yes, Princess, I do." He turns away, and Oil Slick takes the opportunity to admire his finely shaped aft, which is much nicer than Optimus's. He's going to wait a few decacycles and then ask his creators if it is possible for him to bond with bots who are not members of royalty or planetary leadership. Just out of curiosity, of course.

Megatron steps forward and takes his servo as well, kissing it gently, without a single hint of the lecherous pervbot he had been acting like earlier. "Farewell, Princess. I hope to see you again soon."

"Goodbye, Lord Megatron. I hope so, as well." If only to have Blitzwing come again. Maybe with them spending the night. He will have to sneak into the mech's room to stay with all night. Possibly wake him, but most likely just recharge in the same berth the entire time and surprise the bot in the morning. He doesn't want to be caught just because he was too eager. Blitzwing is the kind of knight that will give him back to his creators before doing anything.

Which is too bad.

Oil Slick watches the bots go, and rubs his sparkplates absently, only to startle a bit when Powerhug presses a polishing cloth into his servo. "You have paint on your chest, sparkling. You should clean that up before you go to your creators, and hope that Sir Blitzwing is smart enough to clean himself up as well, or you will be going to the medicbot for a sparkscan again."

It had been awful enough the first time he'd had to have a full spark exam. Overloading for Red Alert to make sure he was healthy had been so slagging embarrassing.

He starts to clean off his plates, "Are all Decepticons like Sir Blitzwing?"

His tutor lets out a small bark of laughter, "No. Most of them are significantly less crazy, and noble."

He hums softly, finishing his plates, and putting the cloth back in Powerhug's servos, "I wish he was a little less noble."

The ninjabot smirks, "You shouldn't tell your creators that, Princess."

A blush, "I didn't mean honorless. I like that he respects me. I just wish he would _kiss_ me."

"You still shouldn't tell your creators that."

* * *

**Please Review**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter three. Woooo. I am writing these as I edit them. Yeah. Don't expect inspired author's notes right now. ... That is why CLICK had such shitty ones, too. Yeah :V

Okay, check out the typewith on the journal. I have a formspring. We love people. I don't really have much to say. Yup.

Transformer's belongs to Hasbro

* * *

With every passing stellar cycle, it became more obvious that his creators intended to bond him to Optimus. They had just told him to go play in the garden with Optimus, without any supervision at all.

So there they were, in the depths of the crystal maze, in one of his favorite secluded crystal corridors, with a bench large enough to use as a makeshift berth if they so desired.

They did not, of course.

He wonders who will bring up the brontobot in the room first. He doesn't want to, but he most likely should. He _needs_ know this, and he can't keep ignoring it.

He takes a big in-vent, and completely fails to say anything.

Optimus looks at him for a long moment and finally breaks the silence with, "So... we're going to be bonded."

He nods, "... yes."

The truckbot rubs his own arm, looking nervous, "And... you're a mech." He nods again, and Optimus bits his lower lip, "So... how is that, then?"

"It would have been scandalous for my creators to have a mech as their first sparkling. Their lines have always sparked femmes, and I would have been disinherited and cast out in shame if I had remained a mech. The laws would allow it no other way." Oil Slick twitches his hip panels, "So they modded my frame to be more femme-like. I don't mind it at all anymore."

Optimus taps his fingers on the bench, "But you used to?"

He smiles a tiny bit, "Before I met you, yes. I had thought I was a femme, but when I went to Red Alert and told her how I didn't feel right, how everything about me was wrong, they explained." He moves a tiny bit closer cautiously, "You aren't... mad at me for this, are you? You can continue to pretend I'm a femme and ..." he looks away, not wanting to say this but forcing it out, "still call me one. Even in private." He had been looking forward to his very first and best friend calling him a mech, but if Optimus insists, he will not press.

"I. . ," Optimus ducks his head, "I think I should keep calling you a femme for now. After we bond, I can call you a mech in private, but . . I don't want to accidentally slip up before the bonding. It could ruin everything."

He can't tell if Optimus is being sincere or not, but he has to believe that the bot is not lying to him. If that's the best he can hope for now, that's the best he can hope for. "Thank you, Optimus. I appreciate your honesty."

Optimus cautiously puts an arm around his waist, and he relaxes into the familiar touch. It is rare that Optimus makes the first move like this, and he does like it quite a bit. The truckbot rubs his side comfortingly, "When we are bonded, do you think we'll be happy?"

He shrugs, "I think so? We're friends, and from all that I've read, that really helps. We aren't strangers who just met on our bonding sol. You're my best friend, and my mamas are each other's best friends, just like your papas."

"I guess so." Optimus looks down. "My papas had an arranged bond. They said they hated each other when they first met. But they're happy together now. I guess we have more than they did." He bites his lip, and then stares Oil Slick in the optics. "Maybe we should try kissing again?"

Their first attempt had been pathetically lackluster, a kiss that had been so immature and awful that they had mutually agreed not to try it again until they were older.

Perhaps the time for trying it again was now.

He shifts a bit, so he's better placed, "Yes." He blinks up at Optimus, "What if it goes further than that?" They _are_ being unsupervised, and if he likes it, he can think of worse bots to be with.

Optimus shakes his head, "We're supposed to wait until we're bonded, Oil Slick. You know that." The crystal mech shifts a little uncomfortably, "And my papas told me that I'm only going to be allowed to bond with either another allspark blessed bot or a virgin. If we interface, we can't bond." A servo pets his side, "And I'm to remind you that you _are_ a mech, and not really a femme. So what your creators did doesn't apply to you?" Optimus sounds confused at that.

Which isn't surprising since just a few decacycles ago, Oil Slick had run into the throne room and put up a fuss about how all the _other_ femmes didn't wait until they're bonded to 'face. His creators certainly hadn't waited for each other.

Apparently since a mech's spark beat in his chest, he was expected to remain as pure as an unadulterated snow crystal, absolutely pristine and free from chemical impurities. It wasn't fair at all.

"Fine. We'll just kiss, then." He has ridiculously strong locks on his sparkplates anyways. It's not as if he can easily get them open, even when he's alone and just wants to self-service. He has to work on the codes for several kliks to convince them to crack open enough to fit his servo inside.

It's irritating as slag.

Optimus gives him a nervous look, and presses his blue lips to Oil Slick's mouth before pulling away. He looks at the mech with a flat stare, "Really? You _have_ been given the datapads about 'facing, right?"

Optimus shifts nervously, "They're _embarrassing_. I can't read them all the way through."

They'd only gotten Oil Slick hot, especially when they showed all the various ways to tie him up to better expose his spark. In fact... "Did you get the bondage datapads?"

He gets an uncomprehending look, "Bondage?"

"Yes, bondage." He offers Optimus a datapad. "If your creators have hidden it from you, you'd better not let them know I gave this to you." It was rather filthy, even if it was his old beginner's datapad, displaying the most basic information about chains and cuffs. "If we are to be bonded, you need to know how to pleasure me this way."

He refuses to bond to a bot not willing to at least _occasionally_ tie him up.

Optimus bits his lower lip, "Should I... look at it now?"

He shrugs, "If you want to. We can look at it together." Maybe he'd finally get to try one of the positions that he can't do by himself. He'd really like that quite a bit.

Optimus moves so that Oil Slick is cuddled against his side, and opens the pad. "Do you think I'll like this? I mean, I don't know if I wi-" Optimus's optics widen, and a blush dusts his faceplates, "They're in really ... exposed positions."

If he found the opening illustrations of mechs with their plates closed erotic and exposed, Optimus's faceplates were going to melt off when they reached the more advanced section, where it showed how to use a bot's own cables to hold sparkplates open.

If the cables were long enough, you would loop one around each side of the bot's chest and then connect them behind the bot's back, forcing the bot to stay open and self-cycle at the same time. It was extremely kinky, and Oil Slick had tested to see if his were long enough, though he hadn't been daring enough to actually try linking them that way.

Yet.

Maybe Optimus will do that to him when they are finally bonded. He would be much happier with Optimus if that was the case.

The crystal mech squirms a tiny bit against him, and must have felt his spark flare at the chains since Optimus rubs his side cautiously, "You must really like this, huh?"

He nods, optics dim, "I do. I'd love it if you do some of them with me."

Optimus is blushing faintly, "I don't... I don't think I could do this the first time we interface. I want to be gentle and loving our first time."

Well, that was a disappointment, but Oil Slick could live with it. It might be better for two fumbling virginbots to have a slow, steady first time anyways, before they throw anything interesting into the mix.

"That's alright, Optimus. But I want to try it later, before you decide if you don't want to do it." He'll be the most seductive, alluring bot ever and make Optimus _love_ putting him in chains.

Optimus tilts his head at one of the poses, "How do you do that one?"

The bot in the picture is tied up with his legs behind his head, chest thrust out invitingly. "I don't know. I couldn't do it since it needs another bot to do the tying."

Optimus's fingers tap on his side, just barely brushing his chest, "Do you want to show me how to do this? I don't want to hurt you when we finally do interface."

"This one is too complicated." Especially if Optimus doesn't know how to properly tie chains. "We'll do this instead." He scrolls to a very basic bondage position, with a mech sprawled out on a berth, arms tied above his head, legs chained together. "It's pretty easy. I can do it myself." And slag, was it hot, tying himself up and then squirming as his spark slowly heated with desire. Usually he just left himself loose enough to flip over and grind to overload on the berth.

Optimus nods, "I don't have any chains."

He moves the bot's servo down a little bit, to brush his hip panels, "I always have chains on me. Remember?" He adds hopefully, "Maybe when we're bonded, we could add even more for my decorations?"

Optimus tilts his head, looking at him thoughtfully, "If you want to, I wouldn't mind. I just want to make sure you aren't _hurt_ when I do this. We could put down metal mesh and things in cuffs to use on you."

He squirms happily at that thought. He hadn't even really thought of cuffs, and now that they were brought up, he flashes to seeing Optimus's practice with disabling bots with just stasis cuffs. He looks at the crystal mech, "Will you do the flip to catch me if we do cuffs?"

Optimus blushes a bright red. "I . . if you want me to, I will. But we don't have any cuffs, do we?"

He gives him a sardonic look, "I know you keep some in your subspace, Optimus, even if your creators do not know of them."

Optimus flushes even darker, and Oil Slick really looks forward to the sol when Optimus burns out his circuits from blushing so much. "I . . alright. I can use those on you too. But how?"

He slides away from Optimus, wiggling so that he's laying flat on the bench, "Get out the non-stasis cuffs for this, since we're just practicing. I don't want to wait until I can talk to use stasis ones." He puts his arms over his head, "When we're bonded, I may want you to chase me and carry me to the berth to 'face." Or have his spark used where he's caught, but he'll bring that up when they're bonded.

Optimus nods, pulling out a pair of cuffs that are gently put on his wrists. "Do they feel alright?"

He frowns a bit, moving his servos, "I don't think I could have them on as you 'face me, they're kinda small and cut into my armor. As long as I don't move, it should be okay for practice."

"I'll try and get better ones. The nice ones that resize to the wrists they are put on," Optimus promises, before taking the chain from him and scrutizining the diagram on the datapad. "So I should loop this through the center part of the cuffs, and then up around the decoration on the bench?" He tries, and a single gentle tug from Oil Slick is all it takes to undo the loose knot. "Oh. I guess I didn't tie it right?"

Oil Slick smiles, "You have to give me less slack. If you give me too much chain to work with, it's easy to get free."

Optimus frowns, "But what if you want me to stop?"

He wriggles on the bench, "The datapads said to use a safeword, but if you stop when I say stop, or tell you I don't want more, that works just as much or even better."

The truckbot smiles, "It also had pictures of bots being gagged. Do you want that?"

He thinks about it as Optimus puts the chain on again before shaking his head, "No. If we're going to be 'facing. I want to be able to tell you how wonderful you're doing, or if I want to stop. And... And if I want a kiss, you wouldn't be able to if I'm gagged. I like being able to see, too. So no blindfolds unless we say we want to then."

"Alright." Optimus flushes, "But . . it might be kinda hot to see you gagged sometime. We could give you a bell or something to hold for your safeword instead." He drops his optics away from the bot and the chains he's fiddling with now, "I saw it in the datapad. In the part with all the gags. It . . I kinda of like the way it looks."

It must be very difficult for Optimus to admit to something like that, and as little as Oil Slick wants to be gagged, he'll at least try it for Optimus's sake. "We can . . test it out. Later."

Optimus finishes tying his chains on his arms, and moves down his frame, resting his head on his chest and looking up at him, "Can I kiss you again? Properly this time. Since you're ..." the bot trails off, unsure what to say.

He nods, "Yes! I would love to kiss you." He squirms under Optimus, spark heating at the thought, "You know to use your glossa, right?"

The mech nods, crawling on top of him, and straddling his waist, "I did read the datapads, even if they were really embarassing."

Oil Slick arches up a bit, and Optimus bends down, and they kiss. It is so much better this time, with the pair of them having a better idea of how to move their mouths and what to do with their glossas. It's still a bit awkward, but it's nowhere near as bad as the first time.

He groans, and grinds up against Optimus, feeling his spark heat. It helps so much that he's restrained like this, much more tightly than he could ever chain himself up.

When the mech breaks the kiss, his optics are dim and he licks his lips, "I think it will get better as we practice."

Optimus smiles, shimmying down his frame and pressing a kiss to just below his sparkplates. "I think I could do about this much chains our first time. I don't want to do your legs, so you can wrap them around my waist like in one of the pictures in the datapad I was given."

He arches up, "But after? We'll have more after?"

"Yes. You're pretty in chains. I think I'd like-"

"Where in Primus's name did you find cuffs?" Mama Wildstar exclaims from the entrance to the alcove, and Oil Slick squirms with embarrassment to be found this way by his creators.

Optimus jerks and leans down over him, as if trying to hide Oil Slick's frame from sight. "I. . uh. ."

Mama Glitterfrost stares at them with wide optics. "You know you are not supposed to interface before you bond, sweetspark. And you're weak to bondage. Why would you let him tie you up?"

He squirms under Optimus, "He wanted to make sure I wasn't hurt when we're bonded! This way we're both happy when we're together the first time."

Optimus hides his face in his chest, trying to hide the both of them out of embarrassment, and Mama Wildstar strides over, "And you think that 'facing _now_ will do that?"

Optimus's voice is muffled, "We weren't going to 'face. I wanted to know how to correctly do this. Now I won't do something stupid like not know when to stop."

There's a laugh from Mama Wildstar, but Mama Glitterfrost isn't as impressed, "You should have done this supervised, then. We can arrange a joint lesson or two from the ninjabot for you both. I'm certain Powerhug could teach you better bondage than you can teach each other. And then you won't be tempted to interface mid-lesson."

Oil Slick makes an unhappy face. He doesn't want more lessons on this from Powerhug. Powerhug gets all strange and doting when Oil Slick starts getting revved over his chains. Like he's remembering some other student.

Optimus is still hiding against his frame, "We won't 'face while doing this. I want to wait until we're bonded."

Wildstar pulls Optimus off, and removes the chains, "I'm still not leaving you alone now. Not when you take advantage of it this way. You had always gone to read together before. Why was it different now?"

Oil Slick scowls, "You told us to come _here_. Where the bench that is normally used by Powerhug and other bots to 'face."

Optimus stares at the bench with horror, "It is?"

Oil Slick vents, "It doesn't have contagious viruses, Optimus." He turns to his creators again, "What were we supposed to think?"

He's tapped on his dainty nose by Mama Glitterfrost, "You were supposed to prove that you were a good sparkling and that you wouldn't try interfacing or getting in trouble if we left you with your suitor."

The cuffs are removed, and he sits up, rubbing his wrists where they are slightly damaged, "We weren't going to interface. It is still kinda awkward kissing him. I want to get used to it before I do anything else."

Wildstar yanks him off the bench, grabbing him by the waist and carrying him at her side, making him tuck in his legs and arms. "That's nice, sparkling. You'll have plenty of time getting used to it as Powerhug supervises all your dates from now on."

Oil Slick grumbles to himself, but knows better than to openly defy his creators. They are both used to getting their way, and will be quite upset if he fights them on this. "Yes, mamas." He can still get some privacy, because Powerhug is a ninjabot and will happily look the other way. Not all of the time. But sometimes. It's better than nothing, that's for slagging sure.

He won't let them interface or get too revved up, if only because Powerhug doesn't want to be fired and cast out without any place for him for failing in too many jobs.

He sighs softly, at least now he won't have to deal with Megatron's far too strong comeons since they've confirmed the bonding.

* * *

**Please Review**


	4. Chapter 4

Longer chapter this time.

Yup.

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

He looks in the mirror, adjusting the ribbons that were replacing the chains for the sol. "Do I really have to wear this?" He has a stupid amount of paint on him, and it isn't even _edible_.

Powerhug looks at him flatly, "Be glad it is only that. If your creators hadn't informed Optimus's to step down, you would have even worse things. Be glad that they agreed to let you leave the chains in your subspace."

Oil Slick shudders, Powerdrive and Steelbolt had wanted to remove them entirely, and not allow him to be tied up for this. The only reason that they would be was because Optimus blushed and mumbled about wanting them. "I could have put bows on each link. I have bows on each link right now, even."

The ninjabot scoffs, "We aren't going to let you wear energon candy bows on your chains to your bonding. You'll just have to do what you planned and have Optimus eat them off as you're tied down."

Oil Slick fusses with the ribbons again, trying to get them to look less awful and flowery and femme-like. He may be a demure, submissive femme-frame, but this mass of ribbon and lace is just ridiculous. It's like Optimus's creators want to pretend that there's no chain-loving mech underneath the foofy bows.

He glances back over his shoulder. "Is the bow on my aft really necessary?"

Powerhug smirks, "Of course it is. You want Prince Optimus to unwrap you like a present, don't you? The more you have to take off, the better."

He twitches his claws, "I want them off, though. Why couldn't we have the chains?"

Powerhug gives him a flat look, "You know why." And he really does, since Optimus's creators really don't think chains are a proper thing for a princess to want to have, and would have happily never exposed Optimus to them if Oil Slick hadn't given him the datapad. "You're almost ready. Do you have everything?"

He looks at all the traditional bonding wear, having both the mech and femme things, and nods cautiously, "I think so. Anything you think I'm missing?"

"A kiss for good luck?" Powerhug leans in and brushes a quick, mostly chaste kiss against his mouth. "Remember that if you find your bonding . . . lacking; if it leaves your spark cold, the ninjabots will help you. You know how to contact us."

Oil Slick waves a servo at him, "Yes, yes, I know. I'm not going into a loveless bond. I like Optimus. We're friends, and he's willing to experiment with chains with me. I won't need your help, but I appreciate it."

Powerhug smirks, "Even with your in-laws hovering over you?"

He puts his servos on his hips, "They like me, and I like them. There's only the argument about what I like in the berth, which really isn't anything they should be complaining about."

Well, it is if he gets to do what he's planning, but he'll live for not. He can encourage Optimus to go on a castle wide chase after a few vorns and end with him having his spark riden in a semi-public area. He'd like it to be in the throne room, but that's just begging to be caught and punished. They will not be ruling for awhile, and doing something like that just shows irresponsibility.

Oil Slick vents, and adjusts his bows a final time. "Can I go out yet? I'm thoroughly bored with waiting." He's going to do something stupid if he has to wait much longer, honestly. Like find Optimus and elope with him, so he doesn't have to go through the stupid public bonding ceremony where they get their servos tied together with ribbons and then paint their fingers with bonding marks. With the ancient, extremely permanent bonding paint of the royal families.

Powerhug looks at him, holding him at arm's length to study him proudly, "You look wonderful, Oil Slick. Your creators are waiting just outside, and will walk you down. You know how to-"

He makes a face, "Yes, yes. I do. We had the stupid rehearsal, and I know how to do all of this." He crosses his arms, "I just want to go be with Optimus as soon as possible and don't want to deal with all of ... this," he waves a servo to illustrate his point about the bonding.

He's tapped on the nose, "You're uniting your planets, sparkling. That's why. You're going to be queen, just like your sister. Only you get a mech with you."

Other bots might have complained about not wanting to be a ruler, but Oil Slick had known since he was a sparkling that he would be a queen, or he would end up in disgrace as some minor noble's third consort. He'd rather be a queen.

"Fantastic. I'd like to start now, if you don't mind." Oil Slick taps his ped on the floor. "I don't understand why his creators are stalling. I heard the bells from my creators already." As soon as Optimus's slagging creators signal their approval of the bond with their bonding bells, he'll be able to go out and finish this fragging thing.

Powerhug pushes him to the door, "Maybe they're having trouble taking his weaponry. The bot is very paranoid about these things. He took my advice on how to hide weaponry to spark. I wouldn't be surprised if he had several in his armor next to his protoform."

Oil Slick sighs softly, he may have had to clear out his weaponry but he had enough sense to take most of it out before even stepping into the bonding building."I bet they take his emergency knife." That is hidden in the emergency ration energon cube, and Oil Slick normally had one as well, but it was not allowed for this sort of thing. Being free of all trappings and things, and all that.

It's bad luck to go to a bonding with anything in your subspace. He's already pushing it just taking a bit of chain for the bonding night after. If Optimus's creators had just slagging been willing to let them have some in the room, it wouldn't have been a problem.

But Oil Slick doesn't believe in that superstitious nonsense at all. He'll go with a chain, and Optimus will no doubt have a few crystal weapons hidden under his armor. He's learned how to hide them against his circuitry so they are nearly invisible.

His spark pulses happily at the thought of Optimus chaining him down and them finally finding out how good 'facing is. He manages to keep from rubbing his chest, but it is a close thing. He walks to the door, stepping out and into his creators's arms. They pat him along the sides, and reach into his subspace, pulling out the chain. Glitterfrost gives him an irritated look, "You're not supposed to have this."

He pushes it back in, being careful not to destroy any of the candy bows, "Powerhug let me. I want my first 'face to be wonderful, and Optimus promised to chain me down. His creators refusing to put chains in the room means that I have to keep it."

"No. It means that you are supposed to respect their culture and keep the chains out of the berthroom," Wildstar corrects him, and then rubs his head playfully. "But go ahead and take them if you want. Just promise me that you'll try to be a proper 'femme' some time and tie _him_ up."

Oil Slick tries to dodge her servos, which are scuffing his careful layers of polish, "Mama! You are ruining all the work that went into this," he waves his arms to show off some of the lavish paint detailing on him. It was meant to prove that a couple had interfaced thoroughly, because the different paint colors he and Optimus would wear would intermix.

She scoffs, "I'm just touching your head, sparkling." She fluffs all the bows on his frame, "You have the text file for all the words you need to say?"

"Yes, mama," he mutters, "I wouldn't forget it since you've sent me a copy every few cycles." Even if he deleted all of them right now, he knows she'd just send him the file again if he sent her a message to.

Glitterfrost presses a kiss to his forehead, "You behave during this. No hiding behind Optimus or us when we go walking down the aisle with you. I know you were fine when we practiced, but not all the bots were watching you and we didn't have all the camerabots."

He hates camerabots and being by too many people. They make him nervous and he shies away from attention like that.

"Yes, mamas," he says dutifully, and waits for them to guide him into the bonding chapel. It's a deceptive sort of name, because it's a huge, open-air place, with towering spires of crystal and seating for thousands of bots. Only those considered important enough to rate such an auspicious placement in their bonding ceremony. "I will be a good femme and stay between you. I won't shame you, or Optimus."

They take his servos, one on each side, and start to walk, "We're proud of you, Oil Slick."

He isn't sure why they're saying that. Maybe because he didn't go through with his threat to seduce Optimus into his berth the previous sol. He knows it isn't because he's getting bonded. It wasn't even his idea in the first place. Not that he minds too much. He likes Optimus, and Optimus likes him. He's sure they'll grow to love each other romantically like their creators did.

He _is_ looking forward to having his spark used by Optimus. He knows how pretty Optimus's spark is, and the truckbot has the code to get his plates open. He'd been self-servicing a lot, so his plates are locked down tight and it will take a master hacker to open them currently. Give him enough time, and he'll get them open himself, but he won't need to soon, not with how the crystal mech can just shove him on the berth and force him open.

He dims his optics and revs softly at the thought.

"It's good that you're eager for this, sparkling," Mama Wildstar says, squeezing his servo. "We know you didn't get much choice in who you bonded with. I think you'll find that after you bond, the coding that the medics put on you will slowly fade over time. Within a vorn, you won't need to code your plates open any longer."

How convenient. Only a vorn of having to be hacked to self-service or pleasure his bondmate. "Wonderful."

There's the sound of chiming, and Oil Slick relaxes a tiny bit; Optimus is finally ready according to his creators's expectations. He hopes the truckbot possibly managed to hide a pair of cuffs. He woudln't mind playing a game after they 'face once or twice. The escaping princess and her overeager prince. Something easy to encourage Optimus to be more adventurous.

He is lead to the chapel, and his optics widen in distress. He wants to leave right away; there are far too many bots here and it terrifies him. He's had times in the throne room where several bots looked at him, but this is the first time _everyone_ in a area had their attention focused on him. He wants to go hide.

But he doesn't. His creators squeeze his servos to reassure him, and walk him down the long, long aisle towards the altar where the temple mech is waiting. He can see Optimus off to the side, walking down the aisle parallel to his own, separated by an endless sea of mechs and femmes polished to glittering perfection.

He only has optics for Optimus, who is _not_ dressed in ridiculous ribbons and lace that covers his hip panels. Optimus is beautiful, coated in some substance that makes his crystal armor look even more transparent than usual.

He is let go from his creators, and he takes the last few steps closer to Optimus. His optics dim, and he he takes the truckbot's servo in his own. He wants to kiss Optimus right now, nuzzle against him and get shoved into the berth. He's been looking forward to this, and now it is time to go through the ceremony that will take so much more time than he wants. If they had just bonded in the usual way, he'd already be in a berth and have his spark ridden.

He accepts that this has to happen, since Powerdrive and Steelbolt are so insistent on tradiition. He isn't sure if he likes it himself, but he'll accept it as long as he knows this wait will end. He just wishes he could nuzzle Optimus like he's used to, and not have to deal with all of this.

They kneel in front of the altar and the templebot, who smiles benignly at them. "Welcome, Princess Oil Slick, Prince Optimus, and all those bots who have come to witness their bonding." The mech sweeps a servo over the crowd. "Bonding is a sacred act, meant to tie bots and communities together for all time. This sol we come together to observe a paint bonding, with the sacred paints of the royal family."

A large pot of paint is brought forward by another temple bot, and placed on the floor in front of them. It is very special, very ancient paint which adheres permanently to whatever it is painted on. It changes a bot at the level of _code_, preventing the paint from ever being removed.

The only way for a painted bot to remove a bond mark is to permanently accept the loss of whatever servo it was painted on, because the loss of a single finger or claw will simply encourage the paint coding to shift to the next one.

He hopes that he doesn't mess up the painting of this. He practiced and practiced on a false servo to make sure that his nervousness wouldn't ruin it, but he wasn't expecting _so many_ bots watching them do this. He wants Optimus's painted band to be perfect. The crystal mech already looks wonderful, and he doesn't want to mar it with his clumsy mis-steps.

He wishes he has his chains on him, then he'd feel calmer and safer. He knows he can't play with them, though, so he forces himself to focus on Optimus. He looks in _his_ truckbot's optics and sends a tiny text of, _Want me to try anything special with the paint on you?_

He gets a tiny shake of the head and a small reply, _I'm fine. Do you want me to try to put a chain for your's?_

His optics flicker at that, and his venting turns slightly ragged. He would _love_ for Optimus to do that. The bot must have been practicing so much harder than he has to be able to do it. He _really_ wishes he could kiss Optimus right this instant. He nods once, _Please?_

_Okay, I'll do that the-_ the text file cuts off midword, and Oil Slick turns his head back tot he templebot, who has flicked a switch on a tiny box. "No bot may communicate in secret during a bonding, and the sacred artefact will guarantee a bonding free of hidden gossip." He gives them a look that says he knows exactly what they were doing.

He looks down, much more nervous now that he doesn't have Optimus's reassuring text in his processor. He may be next to the bot, but it isn't really the same. He is glad the truckbot puts off so much warmth,so he can focus on that instead of dealing with all the nonsense that the templebot is saying. He pays half attention to the long lecture that is being said, saying what he needs to when it comes up, and mostly wishing he could just get out of here.

He's glad that it is traditional for the newly bonded to just _leave_ right after and let the creators deal with the aftermath. He isn't sure he'd be able to not hide away like he'd been taught by Powerhug. A princess isn't really supposed to hide in the ceiling, but he is kinda good at doing that. The hard part would be taking Optimus with him.

Finally, they get to the good part. The priest takes a length of deep red ribbon and tied two of their servos together-the ones they indicated to him beforehand that they would be painting for the bond marks. "Now take the sacred paint and mark your bondmate," the temple bot orders, and Oil Slick reaches for the pot.

Only for it to be knocked to the floor by a sudden ground-shaking explosion.

Oil Slick jerks back, and the fragile ribbon holding their servos together snaps. He stares at it with dismay, and then looks up. Straight up.

Lord Megatron of New Kaon descends into the room, landing in front of the pair of them, and the guests curse and reach for weapons they do not have as the bot scoops Oil Slick up. "My Princess, I have come to rescue you from this sham of a bond." Oil Slick opens his mouth to protest, not even thinking of fighting such a ridiculous claim yet, and finds his mouth claimed in a kiss, glossa sweeping in to silence him.

He makes a muffled shriek, trying to yank away, and claws at Megatron's armor. He does _not_ want to deal with this slag right not. He was going to have a little painted chain on his claw, and he was looking _forward_ to that. He doesn't want Megatron declaring he doesn't want to bond with Optimus. He is perfectly fine with bonding with Optimus. Optimus is his _best friend_, and he'd much rather not have Megatron yank him away from this.

The mech takes to the air before he can say any of this, though.

He's carried into a waiting ship, and has a mouthclamp put on so he can't scream, and he _hates_ it. he doesn't want to be gagged, and was only going to try that with Optimus. Just having it done to him is humiliating and terrible. He just wants to go back to what he was doing without Megatron interrupting it.

His servo is studied carefully, and then Megatron smiles, "Good. You have not been claimed yet. I assume you have been a good femme and kept your spark pure as well?" Fingers slide over his sparkplates, and he makes indignant, outraged noises behind his gag. Megatron smiled brighter, "I will take that as a yes, my sweet little femme. I was worried that your suitor would have taken advantage of your spark by now, but this means it is all _mine_ to claim." Megatron purrs in his audio, "I have chains and cuffs designed specifically for your frame, my femme. I believe we should retire to my berthroom."

He squirms angrily, and tries to yank away, only to be held a little closer. Megatron starts to walk, and Blitzwing falls in step next to them. The triple-changer flips back and forth between Hothead and Icy as he gives the bot the most pleading optics to free him, and finally settles on Icy looking very upset, "My lord, she should not be taken from her bonding."

Megatron tisks softly, rubbing Oil Slick's chestplates as he talks, "She would not be happy with such an Autobot aligned neutral, Blitzwing. A proper Decepticon knows how to take care of what she wants. She'll love being kept on the berth to be used, or kept in my lap as I overload her on the throne. After I bond with her later, I may allow you to 'face her as well. She does like you quite a bit. How many times have we caught her sneaking into your room as we visited?"

"Zat does not matter, my liege," even though he had snuck in every time they had visited. Blitzwing looks extremely distressed, "To kidnap a femme from her bonding ceremony is-"

"Entirely legal," Megatron hums, rubbing harder on Oil Slick's sparkplates, as if trying to coax them open. It's not his fault that his spark heated up a little when Megatron said what he was planning on doing with him. "I took a submissive femme after the ribbon was tied, and the femme broke the ribbon by herself. A bot is allowed to . . . save a femme from a clearly unwanted bond. If they choose to go to war over this, they will be the aggressors." He dims his optics and rubs Oil Slick's cheek. "You will be happier with me, Princess." A laugh, "And if you truly love the crystal mech, as unlikely as that may be, well . . if he comes after you, I have no qualms with claiming him as a trophy of war and adding him to our berth."

"I was going to say reprehensible, my lord." Blitzwing looks disgusted, "She only cut ze ribbon because she has ze sharpest claws zat I have ever seen on a femme, and because you startled her. I do not like zis."

Megatron brings Oil Slick up, and licks his plates, "She is hot and wanting, Blitzwing. You are welcome to your anger, but it will not stop me from doing what I want to do." Large fingers squeeze his aft possessively, "She is beautiful as she squirms, and will only be more so when I put her on the berth. Guard the door, and be silent."

Blitzwing flips to Hothead, but does as he's told, just outside of the door of the room Megatron carries him into.

It can only be the room Megatron uses on the ship. Not terribly large, since they need to conserve some space on such a limited place, but about as lavish as you can get in a ship. He imagines there is a solvent pool in the washrack, and he is likely going to be put in it as his spark is used.

He's placed on a large, sinfully comfortably berth, and his servos are chained above his head, peds restrained with more chains, to little hooks that flip up out of the berth to compensate for the fact that he is too small to use the lower end of the berth to tie the chains to. "Are you comfortable, my sweet little femme?" Megatron asks kindly, adjusting the chains with an expert touch, until they are _perfect_ on him, making his spark pulse with an almost processor-numbing heat.

Damn Megatron to the pit for being so good at this.

He makes inarticulate noises, and Megatron gently removes the gag. "If you insult me too much, I will put this back on you, sweet femme. I do wish to hear you cry out in pleasure as I use you, so I am trusting that you will be a good femme and stay polite." He caresses Oil Slick's frame. "You are gorgeous."

He squirms both in pleasure and unhappiness, damn his spark for loving to be forced like this, "Stop calling me _your_ femme!" He is in the wrong position to escape, and he is not happy about that. He twitches his toes, "I'm not your sweet anything."

Megatron's optics dim, and the bot sits on the berth next to him, "You will be soon, sweetspark." Large fingers play with his ram, "If I was not so eager to touch you, I'd just leave you here until you're hot and wanting all on your own. Possibly add just a few more chains, and walk away to go find something else to do."

His engine revs at that, and he keeps from making a soft and wanting moan. "Return me to the bonding chapel at once."

"No, no, little femme. You are mine now." He pauses, and then adds softly, "For the next vorn at least. It is tradition to begin all bonds on New Kaon with temporary paint. At the end of the vorn, if you are not happy being mine, I will allow you to leave." Megatron dims his optics and rubs at the seams of his hips, "I can guarantee you will _love_ being mine. You will wonder how you ever lived without having me use your spark like my personal toy." He rubs at Oil Slick's plates again, "I wonder how long it will take to train you to take an overload inhibitor."

He squirms at that, spark cooling a bit at the mention of it. Inhibitors are dangerous, and he has _no_ interest in being melted. He may like being tied up, but that doesn't mean he wants to be hurt. "No." He doesn't want this, even if his spark tells him that it is fantastic to be on the berth to be used and touched. "I want to go back now."

Megatron's optics dim and the bot licks him on the chest, just around the edges of his sparkplates. "You are very hot for me, my princess. I will let you go after the vorn of our bonding is up, but not now." The bot's fingers play with his hip panels, "Open for me. I want to taste your spark, and I know it will be delicious and sweet."

"Never," he hisses, because he _knows_ he cannot betray Optimus this way. Knows that he cannot show Megatron that he is _not_ a femme. The bot won't take it well, he already knows it, and he locks his plates even tighter, letting the code have more control than usual.

Megatron smiles, "Oh, you want to play it like that? I have no trouble 'forcing' you open, sweetspark." His fingers press hard on his sparkplate seams, trying to pry him open.

He smirks when it doesn't work, "Not going to happen."

Megatron's fingers slip, unable to get a good grip because of the coding's special properties to keep his plates in place. The mech hums softly, "So you want to me to cut you open?"

His optics widen, "What? _No_." He squirms unhappily, "I don't want you to-"

The bot pulls out a energyblade, and presses it to his seams, "No need to play games, sweetspark. All you had to do is tell me."

He tries to kick his legs, but is thoroughly stuck, "I don't want to get _hurt_!" That is _not_ his kink at all. He is all for being tied down and controlled, but having bits of him cut apart is never anything he wants at all. Besides, as the blade just proves by skipping the top of the seams and breaking into several pieces, cutting is useless. They did that to keep him from trying to cut the locks himself.

Megatron narrows his optics. "Barbaric. Your creators put ancient locks on your plates?" He slides his servos over the plates, "I suppose they must have put the code in you as well, to keep you chaste. How distasteful." He leans down and claims Oil Slick's mouth in a kiss, glossa tangling with his, making his spark pulse with want. When he breaks the kiss, Megatron's optics are dim, and Oil Slick is venting desperately. "No worries, sweetspark. My head of the Intelligence office will have no problem hacking you open. He is very skilled at it."

He can hack it himself, but he's not saying that at all. He doesn't want Megatron to ruin his bonding to Optimus. Their alliance to Oddessyx is vital, and he wants to be bonded to a bot that he can actually stand. Megatron may hit every single one of his kinks, but does not _listen_ when he says no. Optimus will stop and ask what is wrong. The truckbot was always so thoughtful and caring during the practice sessions that Powerhug supervised. He loved having Optimus push him down firmly into the pile of metal mesh and holding him down.

Megatron strokes his frame, "You must be low on fuel by now. I know it is traditional to abstain from it on the morning of your bonding ceremony." He picks up a cube from the table and holds it to Oil Slick's mouth. "Allow me to sate your hunger."

He tips the cube up, and Oil Slick's only choices are drinking it-which his systems all clamour at him to do-or let it spill in a sticky mess that will encourage Megatron to lick him clean. He swallows it, mindful of the fact that it may be drugged or laced with aphrodisiacs.

When he finishes, Megatron kisses him again, licking his lips to get the tiny bit that was spilled, "I am going to go talk to several bots for awhile. You already have my com, so you are welcome to send a message for me, and I will return." The mech's servo caresses his chest, "Maybe I will be back instantly, or I may take even longer. Just be patient and do not worry." His sparkplates are licked, glossa lathing all over them, "Would you like me to order Blitzwing to self service for you?"

His spark pulses painfully hot, and Megatron chuckles. Oil Slick flushes, "No. I don't want that."

"Liar," Megatron murmurs against his armor, kissing it gently before withdrawing. "But I will not force that on you. He will remain outside the door. If you need more fuel, just call for him, and he will help you fuel." Megatron kisses him demandingly, only stopping when Oil Slick is whining with want, trying to arch up for more touch. "I will be back, my sweet little femme."

Oil Slick slumps on the berth, watching him go. He shivers, overheated frame making the warm air in the room feel much cooler than it was.

He sits there for a long moment, and starts to work his way through the various ways to contact his creators. There's something blocking him, and he wonders if Megatron put something on the chains to stop all communications aside from him. He tries with different bots, but fails every single time. Even one to Blitzwing, just to see if he didn't have to yell for help.

He slumps in the chains, wishing his spark would stop singing praises about how wonderful it is to be like this. He knows it is fantastic, he just wishes it was Optimus, and he had finished his bonding.

After awhile, he sighs softly and calls out, "Blitzwing?"

There's a soft sound of a door opening, and the triple-changer is flipping from Hothead to Icy, "Yes, princess?"

He squirms, "Will you come here?"

"Yes, princess," Icy says, approaching her very slowly. "Are you damaged? My lord does not usually . . . finish so quickly. He must have been very rough with you." He glances at Oil Slick's frame, and then frowns, "But . . you do not appear to be damaged."

"He did not take me," Oil Slick admits. "I have sparkplate locks and code to keep from opening, or being forced open." He looks away, "He says he will have me hacked when we arrive on New Kaon." He turns back, giving the bot wide, pleading optics, "Please, you must help me, Sir Blitzwing."

Icy looks reluctant as he says, "I... I can not, princess. I am a good knight, and must follow my orders. I am to guard you and keep you safe."

He squirms, widening his optics even more, making the green of them more hurt and pleading, "Allowing me to be hacked is not keeping me safe, Sir Blitzwing."

The bot moves uncomfortably, "Zat is not ze safety zat I am supposed to guard, Princess Oil Zlick. I am to make sure zat none of ze ozer Decepticons get into ze room and to keep you fueled." The bot looks away, "I am to self service for you, if you demand it, as well. I... I know zat you want to be wiz your Prince Optimus, so I had no problem agreeing wiz zat order when Lord Megatron demanded it of me. Especially since it was ze order zat allowed me to keep ze ozer Decepticons from touching your frame."

"I appreciate that you want to protect me from sparkrape from other bots, but . . . you would allow it from your leader?" Oil Slick shifts unhappily in the chains, trying to find enough slack to undo them, and failing. Megatron knows how to chain a bot properly. He knows Oil Slick was ninjabot trained in bondage.

Blitzwing looks away from him, "Zat is what I must do as a loyal knight, meine . . . Princess Oil Zlick. It will not be so bad, bonding wiz him. Megatron is very nice in ze berz, and he will make sure you are satisfied and happy."

He shifts unhappily, "I don't want to be with him, Blitzwing. Take me back and let me bond with Optimus." He twitches his claws, "Megatron does not _stop_ when I tell him no. He insists that I will enjoy it, and seems to think that my insistence that I do not want this is just a game."

Blitzwing flips to Hothead, "He is not listening to you when you are refusing? Zis is-" the mech seems to force himself to calm down flipping almost painfully back to Icy, "somezing zat I can _not_ control, Princess Oil Zlick. Even zough I would like to take you back, I can not."

He whimpers unhappily, "Please, Sir Blitzwing? _Please_?"

When the bot only turns his back on Oil Slick, the cyclebot whines softly. His favorite knight was refusing to help him.

Logicaly, he knew it was not possible. There were likely other mechs on the ship willing to offline the bot if he tried to take Oil Slick back. Megatron's soldiers were fanatical in their loyalty to him, after all. "May I have more energon?" he asks quietly, giving up on trying for freedom just yet.

Blitzwing relaxes just slightly, moving to sit on the berth next to him, and picking up a cube from the side table, "Yes, princess. I am sorry zat I can not do more for you. I know zat none of zis is drugged, so you need not worry about zat."

He moves his head, "Could you loosen the restraints?"

Blitzwing glances at the chains, and shakes his head, "Nein, princess, you are not hurt, and if I loosen zem, you will escape. Megatron will know instantly who did it."

He drinks from the cube pressed to his mouth, pulling away after a little bit, "What if they're hurting me?"

Blitzwing looks pained, "Zen I am to get ze medic to look after you. I am not to touch you at all."

"I hate Megatron," Oil Slick says flatly. "I want you to help me escape him, before he takes my virginity." Before he renders any chance to bond with Optimus null and void. Optimus's creators will never allow him to bond with a bot that has been 'sullied' by the spark of another. Not unless that bot was Allspark-blessed, and Oil Slick clearly was not.

"Be zat as it may, you are his now," Blitzwing places the cube on the table. "You should learn to be happy wiz him, Princess."

This forced bonding that will be happening won't even have the benefit of an alliance with the Decepticons. It will just force Haydon IV into a fight they have no hope of winning, or a cut of losses. As much as it hurts him, he hopes that Optimus isn't forced into fighting to try to save him. He doesn't want his best friend caught and forced into being confined to a berth. Optimus isn't made for that life, and will be a wonderful leader.

He looks away from Blitzwing, "I do not know if I can." Not when Megatron keeps _ignoring_ how he says no. He wonders if the grey mech has another lover that _likes_ to be ignored when they refuse. He knows that some bots do, but he doesn't want some odd safeword when saying he doesn't want it is all he needs. He knows that if he likes it, he won't tell a bot to _stop_. Or if he's saying no and doesn't mean it, it will be playful.

Like his want for Optimus to chase him around before catching him to use his spark.

There isn't a bot alive who would be able to hear him say 'no' to Optimus during that chase and think he meant it. Not with how he intends to say it, taunting Optimus into chasing him faster.

He wants his bondmate to be wild for him by the time he allows himself to be caught.

But this, with Megatron, is nothing like that. If he . . if he has no choice, and must stay with Megatron, he is going to make sure the bot knows when he is sincere. At the very least, he _is_ going to obtain a safeword, and if Megatron ignores it, he will have legal recourse for breaking up whatever bonding Megatron forces on him. The bonding Councils are very strict about such things.

Blitzwing moves a tiny bit closer to him, not quite touching him, "I will do my best to keep you safe, mei- Princess Oil Zlick. You will not need to worry about anyzing too terrible will happen to you."

He offlines his optics, "I wish you didn't have to censor yourself. You know that I adored you calling me your's, didn't you?" He still does, really. Even if he was getting bonded to Optimus, he always looked forward to the tiny little slip of the glossa Blitzwing did when he visits.

Blitzwing coughs into his servo, "I should never have done zat in ze first place, Princess Oil Zlick. It is rude to be so familiar when you are so very above me." The mech stands up, "I will be outside ze room, princess. You need only call to have me return."

"Stay with me," Oil Slick demands, and Blitzwing pauses.

"Ze only reason Lord Megatron will allow me to stay in ze room wiz you is if you have me self-service for you, Princess. I cannot stay here ozerwise."

Oil Slick looks away. "Then you may go." It is obvious the triple-changer does not want to self-service for him, and he will not make a bot do something so intimate if the bot is not interested. "If you know of any energon treats around, I would not say no to one later." It would give him a chance to lick Blitzwing's fingers.

"I will tell meine Lord of your desire for sweets, Princess."

No. That wasn't what he wanted at all.

He shakes his head, "I want them from _you_."

The triple-changer looks away, "Nein. I can not. Zat would mean zat I may touch you. Lord Megatron also specified zat _he_ be ze only one to do zat. I will tell him you re-"

"_No_." He wiggles in the chains, "If you do not feed them to me, I don't want them at all. It is you or no one." Or Optimus, but he knows saying that will do nothing to help him.

Blitzwing leaves the room without saying anything else, and Oil Slick slumps down on the berth, spark overwhelmed with despair. How had he ended up in this situation? Was it truly punishment for bringing a chain with him to his bonding? That hardly seemed fair, or just. No, it had to be bad luck.

He tugs on the chains, and feels his stupid spark heat up with desire at how well bound he is. Primus must hate him, to give him like this to Megatron.

He wonders if he can get out of this on his own, but it is doubtful. Maybe he can convince Blitzwing to defect or something like that. There _is_ an old rule that returning a bot unsullied after a being stolen away means you can demand to bond with that bot. Well, not if you're the one that stole them away, though. That would just encourage bots to botnap the one they want to demand a bonding from.

He could have Blitzwing save him and he can return to Haydon IV. He may not get Optimus if that happens, but he'd at least get Blitzwing. Maybe. ... unlikely.

He'd likely be exposed as a mech before that and be nothing more than a pauper dragging Blitzwing down with him. He is helpless to everything, and he wishes he had been trained to do more than this. He can lead a planet with another bot at his side, but he can't fight his way out or wiggle out of chains like a fully trained ninjabot.

It wouldn't have been proper to be a trained ninjabot if he was a submissive femme, but . . it would have been useful. And useful was more important than proper.

Oil Slick feels a bit of optical lubricant leaking down his cheeks, and turns his head to try and wipe it off on the metal mesh, not wanting such a visible sign of his misery showing. He would not appear to be some weak, terrified femme. No. He would look strong and defiant and not give Megatron anything he wanted at all.

He forces his optics offline, and initializes his systems to go into recharge. He doesn't want to keep thinking about what terrible things are going to happen to him, and recharge will be an easy way to stop the thoughts.

* * *

**Please Review**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter five. Woo. Yeah. Woo.

I got nothing.

Transformers belongs to Hasbro.

* * *

When he onlines, he is being held gently in large grey arms. Blinking his optics, he looks around and realizes he has his servos cuffed together, and a latticework of chains along his legs and arms. He can't quiet his rev at it, and Megatron pauses his walking to look down at him. The bot kisses him, glossa pushing in his mouth demandingly, "I thought you'd like it, little femme. We're on New Kaon, and I didn't want you to try to escape. And you looked so wonderful in recharge as I moved your frame to tie you up in such a decorative way."

He is not very comfortable with the thought of bing tied up while in recharge, no matter _how_ pretty the various diamond shapes the chains look from what he can see of them, or how much the feel of them on his plating makes his spark pulse. It is just _creepy_ to not know what is going on and have this done to him.

Oil Slick squirms as much as he can, and the chains slide over his armor, enticing him to squirm even harder. He stops only when Megatron revs against him, and leans down to hum in his audio, "You look gorgeous in these chains, little femme. Especially the ones over your pretty sparkplates." He rubs the plating between the diamonds shapes of chain, "You will look even better with these plates gone, and the chains outlining your spark."

Oil Slick shakes his head, "No. No, I don't want that, and I want a . . a safeword."

Megatron pauses, "You truly do not like the idea of having your spark exposed, so I may play with it however I please while you squirm in the chains?"

"_Yes_!" He whines unhappily, "I told you over and over that I didn't want this, and you keep ignoring me!" He flinches away from Megatron's touch, "You don't care that I told you not to, and just keep going. Optimus never pushed when I sa-"

He's kissed into silence, "We are not talking about Optimus, little femme. You are mine, and you need to realize that. I will stop if you tell me no, but you must get used to my touch. Your spark is singing my praise, and still you refuse. I think I am in the right to ignore your refusals for now. Once you are more used to me, and less inclined to knee-jerk reactions to what I do, I will stop automatically. But you are angry at me, so we will just need to remove your plates to better convince you how much better off you are with me."

That was just so . . . so . . Decepticon!

Oil Slick shut his mouth and offlined his optics, refusing the mech the honor of paying attention to him. He even offlined his audios, and let himself go limp in the mech's arms. Let it look like Megatron was carrying an offlined bot one step away from a grey shell. He was not doing the mech any favors at all.

When he feels himself being set on a berth, he onlines his audios to hear what is going on, but continues to play at being offline.

There's the voice of Shockwave coming from next to him, "-rd Megatron, it shouldn't be very hard at all. I am well practiced at getting into highly encrypted places. Opening a sparkchamber for you should be nothing."

Megatron is on the other side, "Very good, Shockwave. I want it gone completely, since I may put plates back on her later. I was thinking a lovely set of clear ones to show off her submissive femme spark."

Oil Slick hisses at him, "I am not going to wear clear sparkplates." It would let _everyone_ see that he had a mech's spark, and he knows this isn't going to turn out well. "Don't open me up, please. I don't . . let me have some time to get used to you, Lord Megatron. A little time is all I ask."

Megatron narrows his optics. "Are you hiding something from me, my femme?"

Yes. That he was not a femme at all.

"No matter. Shockwave will find out what you are hiding from me."

That is exactly what he doesn't want.

He tries to move away, but finds that he's been chained down even more snugly than before. There's not even room to squirm and wiggle like on the other berth. Megatron must not want him to be able to jar the cord to the datapad that Shockwave is using in one of his access ports.

His spark is pounding hard and dangerous in fear. he doesn't want to be found out, not like this. He wanted Optimus to call him his mech in public in a vorn or two, and be told how much he's loved and wanted. Not chained to a berth and getting hacked open for Megatron to use his spark.

Oil Slick offlines his optics, and struggles to fight the hacking with all of his firewalls and virus protection code-but it's futile. He's never been force-hacked before, and Shockwave breaks through his defensives like they were made of aluminum foil. The mech makes a strange purring noise, "Oh, she has lovely coding protecting her spark, my liege. Very lovely. It will be a pleasure breaking it open for you." Oil Slick can feel the bot force the coding down, slowly beating it, working faster than the code can adapt. Faster than Oil Slick was capable of getting it open.

He feels his sparkplate locks disengage, and the plates slide open on a command from the hacker.

He cringes the best he can when he's so firmly held in a splayed position, and there is a long silence in front of him. He slowly onlines his optics to see Megatron shaking in fury.

... frag. He's not going to make it out of this alive.

Megatron grabs him by the shoulder, "You're a _mech_." His spark cowers in fear at the cold tones, "You lied about being a femme. How _dare_ you." The bot pulls out an energyblade, and Oil Slick tries to struggle away, not wanting to be stabbed. He is only slightly less terrified when all Megatron does with it is cut the chains that were holding him to the berth and his hip panels to expose his legs before shoving it back into his subspace."Now you look more like the mech that you are, with no false trappings of a femme skirt." He turns to Shockwave, "You will put a hotspark code in him now." The mech freezes a moment, and then Oil Slick can feel intrusive code being forced into his systems. Megatron focuses on the door and yells, "Blitzwing!"

The knight comes in, wide-opticked, "Yes, my liege, how can I-"

Megatron thrusts Oil Slick at him, jerking him away so quickly that the datapad cable snaps off in his arm port. "You will take. . . 'Princess' Oil Slick and ruin _his_ honor. I want it done now."

Blitzwing takes him into his arms, looking down at his writhing form, "My lord?"

His hot is hot and wanting, and all he can do is whine with need, gasping and griding as best he can against the triple-changer's armor. The mech holds him a little firmer, so he can't grind, and Megatron snarls, "He is a _mech_, and I want him out of my sight so I don't offline him this instant. You will use his spark and report back to me."

The bot looks confused, but takes off, out of the room. Oil Slick whines needily, "Bl-Blitz-Blitzwing."

The triple-changer looks at him, flipping from Icy to Random, the one face he had _never_ been able to get more than a small glance at, and makes an upset sound, "Oh, meine Oil Zlick, you are _damaged_. He has cut off your pretty skirt."

Oil Slick writhes almost mindlessly, needing an overload more than he's ever needed one before, "Pl-please, use me," he begs, rocking against him.

Blitzwing holds him close, hiding him from the view of a few passing Decepticons. "Shh, meine Princess. Let me get you some place safe and private. We do not want ze ozer bots seeing you like zis. It would not be a good zing at all."

He writhes, trapped close to the bot until he's taken to a much smaller room, and laid out on a berth. He arches up, clawing at the berth under him, "Bli-Blitzwi-"

The bot puts a finger against his mouth, "Nein." He grabs Blitzwing's servo, sucking on the finger and trying to yank him down on top of him. The mech stays solidly standing, and pulls away, "_Nein_, meine Princess Oil Zlick. I do not know what zey did to you, but you are _hurt_." Random kneels down, nuzzling his face, and pulling away before a kiss. "I zink you need to cool down."

"I . . I . ," Oil Slick revs helplessly, "I'm a . . mech. N-not a Princess." He squirms, trying to get Blitzwing to do something to make his spark stop being so hot. "And . . and code."

Something . . hotspark code or something.

It certainly had made his spark very hot.

Blitzwing does not even put a servo on his spark though, no matter how badly he wants it. "I will not violate you, Princess. It . . I am surprised zat you have a mech's spark, but I will not rape your spark because of it. Lord Megatron should know better zan to order me to do zis to you."

He reaches for the bot, "Pl-please?"

There's a flip to Icy, and he's kissed on the forehead, "Nein. I zink zat..." He's picked up, and moved so that he isn't able to rub up against Blitzwing, "We will go to ze washrack. You will go under ze cold solvents, ja?"

"No!" he whines, trying to wriggle out of the bot's grasp to rub his spark against Blitzwing's armor. "Wa-want _you_."

The bot ignores him, dropping him into a solvent pool that was _freezing_. He wonders when the bot had filled it, and how it wasn't warm. He shivers and shakes, spark still pulsing with want, and the triple changer looks at him critically, "I do not zink zat I can return to Lord Megatron."

"You c-c-could use m-me," he says, denta chattering with the cold, his systems slowing down to preserve their function without burning more energon to heat him.

"No, Princess. I cannot." He sits beside the pool and waits, and it takes a solid breem before his spark is cool enough that his processor is not completely absent. Oil Slick sits in the solvents, which have warmed a bit, and feels the last bit of code vanish from him.

"I will not fight you," he says softly. "Your Lord has given you an order, and you are nothing if not loyal."

Blitzwing looks at him flatly, "Nein. I will not do zis to you. You have... You have to be returned to your Optimus. I do not look forward to what will happen to me when I return, but it what I must do."

He moves a little closer to the edge of the pool, trying to force his plates shut but failing, "You don't _have_ to return here."

The triple-changer shakes his head, "I must be wiz Lord Megatron. He is-" the bot stops as he climbs out, moving slightly painfully from his cut off hip panels. Blitzwing flips over to Random instantly, "You are _naked_, meine Oil Zlick!"

Oil Slick glances at his missing hip panels, and the sparking wires spread out over them. "I am not naked. Lord Megatron was . . displeased that they made me look like a femme. So he removed them." He looks away and bites his lip. "I am fine." He would just coat the wires in a bit of medical adhesive and then he would be alright.

The mech stands up, "Nein." Random reaches into his subspace and pulls out something made of a great deal of metal mesh and pushes it at him, "You will wear zis so you are no longer naked.."

He looks at it, unsure how to do that. "What is it?"

Random takes it back, pulling it over his head, and covering him, "It is a dress. You will have your spark covered and your legs will be properly hidden like ze modest princess you are."

Oil Slick glances down at himself. It does indeed cover his spark, but it also covers his arms and all of his legs, hindering his movements somewhat because of how much mesh there is, and the trail of it dragging on the ground behind him. It is also, rather suspiciously, sized to fit him perfectly.

"How long have you had this?" He lifts his arms to study the mesh encircling his arms, and the way it drapes over his claws unless he holds his arms in a very demure, femme-like way, servos gently linked in front of him.

The bot waves a servo, "Awhile. Do not worry, ja? I was hoping to give it to you as a bonding gift, but zat did not work out."

He moves to lean against Blitzwing, looking up at the bot, "I really won't struggle if you are going to follow his or-"

There's a flip, and Icy presses a finger to his lips, "Nein. You will be returned to Prince Optimus. I know zat it is not my place to be wiz you. I am a knight, und you will be a queen."

He takes Blitzwing's servo, rubbing his face against it, "You can demand to bond with me if you return me. It is a very old rule on my planet. The reason that we had two femme leaders, even. Queen Whisp had rescued Queen Fairpeds from the clutches of the bot that had taken her, and Whisp demanded Fairped's servo in bonding. You can do that with me, if that is what you want."

"I would not take you from your intended bondmate, Princess." Blitzwing kneels in front of him, and presses a kiss to Oil Slick's servo, "If you will accept my escort, I will return you to your intended, and then come back to face my punishment at Lord Megatron's servo. My honor demands it."

Oil Slick recoils. "No. Absolutely not. I refuse to let you save me and then be punished for saving me. My kingdom has always welcomed knights that have had to leave a liege because their lord or lady went . . against the morals they pledged themselves to."

Blitzwing shakes his head, picking him up, "Nein. I can not accept, Princess." The mech heads to the door, "I know zat I must accept ze consequences for my actions. And zis is a consequence I will take proudly if it means zat you are safe. You were given to me to do what I please, and I am pleased to return you to your intended. Do not make zis harder on me zan it already is. I know zat you would be wonderful in ze berz or zat I could bond wiz you, but you are forming an alliance wiz Oddesyx. I will adore you from afar, for as long as I can."

"We are to have a painted bond," Oil Slick reminds him, resting a servo on Blitzwing's chestplates. "We could take a third to our berth. It is common for royal couples to take a knight they adore to their berthchamber. Zap and Firebolt had Steadyblade for the entirety of their reign."

It had been a bit scandalous at first, especially when several of the sparklings came out with winglets when there was no flying history in Zap or Firebolt's lines, but bots had accepted them.

Blitzwing shakes his head, "Nein. I would not do zat to your Optimus." The mech puts a finger to his mouth, "No more. We must be quiet, so zat I can take you to ze ship. I will not be able to fly fast enough to get you zere on my own wings, not wizout alerting someone."

He curls against the triple-changer, optics offline and letting the bot hold him close as they walk through the hallways. He is glad the bot doesn't look like he's hiding something, since that would only set off alarms in processors when _Sir Blitzwing_ is acting secretive in New Kaon. He is carried to a ship, and Blitzwing sets him in it carefully before getting into the pilot seat, and taking to the air.

The mech waits until New Kaon is just another dot in the sky behind them before speaking again, "I have taken ze fastest ship, and I am certain zat Lord Megatron will be notified very soon."

Oil Slick rests a servo on his shoulder, "I appreciate what you are doing for me, Sir Blitzwing. You are truly a noble knight." Too noble. "I wish you would reconsider returning to Megatron."

"Nein." The bot keeps his optics fixed on the control panel. "Ze only way I will stay is if Megatron himself orders me to leave his service."

That. . . would actually be simple to achieve, really. He could suggest to Megatron that offering up his knight as an apology would be a suitable tribute to stop any retaliatory war from starting.

He shifts in his seat, "Is there a com console in this ship? I should inform them we are returning."

Blitzwing taps a button, and a viewscreen pops up in front of him, "Zere. You will need to make it short, or we will be tracked. I would have taken out ze chip zat does it, but it would have taken far too much time. I'd have had to reroute several zings around it, since ze tracking on coms is an essential part built in just for ze reason we are doing zis. Taking off wizout telling anyone means zat we want to track you."

"Ah." Oil Slick taps in his creators' personal console, hoping that they are in their quarters. He wants them to see him. If they aren't there, he will have to use their personal coms instead, and talk in heavily coded language. They were always worried about botnap attempts. He sits and waits, and they eventually answer, looking rough and harried.

"What do you-" Wildstar's optics widen, and she gasps, "Oil Slick!" She frowns, "What are you wearing?"

He waves a servo, "That doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm safe. I need to make this short. We're returning to you."

"Oh, sweet Primus, really?" Glitterfrost crowds Wildstar over to get a better look at him. "Are you alright? What did that awful mech do to you? Do you know that Optimus is getting ready to lead a war against New Kaon and the Decepticon empire to retrieve you?"

Oil Slick lifts a servo to quiet his mama's fretting. "I am fine. He . . discovered that I was a mech, and was not interested in me. Blitzwing offered to return me home. I expect him to be well treated."

Blitzwing looks over to him, "You must hurry. Zey will be tracking us if you do not hurry."

His mamas look at him, "What do you mean tracking you?"

He shakes his head, "They'll find us if I stay on too long. Tell Powerdrive and Steelbolt not to let Optimus leave. We will be back ... How soon?"

Blitzwing looks nervous, "Not long if ze Autobots allow us safe passage zrough ze bridges, but you must stop talking _now_."

He turns to his mamas, "I love you." And shuts off the com before they can respond. He knows they'll be angry, but that's something he can deal with later.

The triple-changer vents, "I do not zink zey picked up zat signal, but it is better to be safe zan sorry, Princess. We should be approaching ze first bridge soon, and zen we will enter neutral territory. Lord Megatron will be less willing to hunt us down when we are not in Decepticon space."

Oil Slick crawls onto his lap, curling up against him, the metal mesh of the 'dress' draped all over the place. "Thank you, Sir Blitzwing."

The triple-changer rubs his back, piloting the ship with one servo, "I could not leave you, Princess. Lord Megatron cast you to ze side, and I could not let you be hurt."

He nuzzles the bot's chest, staying away from the sparkplates, "You are putting yourself at risk for me, and I still can not thank you enough. You are welcome to stay with us to stay safe. We will not be-"

The bot shakes his head, "I have told you, Princess, I will not leave Lord Megatron's service. He is my leige, and I will serve him. It is dishonorable zat I am doing zis, but all ze more to pull you away from ze bot you were planning on bonding."

"I thank you, Blitzwing, and can promise you a place in our household," he pauses, "assuming that Optimus's creators will still allow me to bond with him." He looks away. "I suspect they will require a thorough spark inspection to assure themselves that I am still pure for their sparkling. They are very superstitious about bonding Optimus, because of his crystal frame."

Blitzwing nods, "As zey should be. Ze Allspark has blessed him, and it would be an insult to not at least show some measure of concern about ze bot he will have sparklings wiz." Blitzwing flushes a bit, "I believe you make an excellent couple."

He cuddles against Blitzwing a little more, "Thank you." He does wonder how the sparklings will turn out, though. He had a very ... ugly face before all the modding he had done to it. He hopes that the femme strands of his CNA show through, rather than the parts that don't make for attractive sparklings.

The triple-changer looks slightly nervous, "You will be happy wiz him. You had told me how he is your best friend, and zat always speaks well for ze bonding, ja?"

He nods, spark tight, "Yes." He had also wanted Blitzwing for a very long time, and hadn't even expected to see him since they had cut ties with Megatron.

The bot was attractive, and had so many interesting seams and was rumored to enjoy bondage even more than most bots did. He had a sexy accent, and Oil Slick wants to ride his spark all night long. He won't say that, though. Not until he finds out if Optimus is open to having a knight sharing their berth.

The bot had been raised so traditionally, he's not sure that Optimus would accept it. He desperately hopes he will, though.

"Ze space bridge is active," Blitzwing murmurs, looking at it. "I suppose your creators contacted ze Autobots to open zeir network for us."

He nods, "Most likely." He offlines his optics, feeling slightly ill as they speed through the bridge, transwarping always made his tank flutter and spark flicker in dismay.

Blitzwing seems to realize that and holds him a tiny bit closer, rubbing his back, "We will be back to Oddesyx soon. Lord Megatron, even if he went after us ze moment we were discovered missing will take a long time to follow us. None of ze ozer ships are fast enough to catch us, and ze bridges will be closed."

"Did you steal his best ship?" Oil Slick curls against the warmth of his chest, feeling the pulsation of his spark beneath his plates. He wishes he could get his own to shut. The metal mesh is a cursed sort of tease, rubbing lightly against it every time he moves.

Blitzwing flushes again, "Ja, well . . I stole his fastest ship, zat is for sure. He likes ze Nemesis more, but ze Fleetwings is far better for speed."

He chuckles softly, snuggling happily, "Thank you."

The mech smiles at him, "I could do nozing less for mei- ... you, Princess Oil Zlick."

He really does hate the self-censor the bot does. He soaks up the warmth of the mech's spark, optics dim, "If you accepted your place as our knight, you could call me your's, and not feel bad about it."

"A knight cannot simply abandon zeir previous post, my lady," he says softly, resting a servo on his back. "It is important not to lose honor by simply moving on to some ozer leader. I am an honorable knight, and will not leave my Lord's employ until he dismisses me."

Oil Slick vents softly, unhappy with Blitzwing's stubbornness. "You should learn to listen to _me_, Blitzwing, and not Megatron. Megatron wanted you to sparkrape me."

Blitzwing shakes his head, "Zat may be, but I can not abandon him. He has his faults, but he is still my lord. He must be kept safe."

Oil Slick frowns, "I want you, though. You want to be with me, too. You-"

Blitzwing puts a finger to his mouth, "Nein. I will not argue about zis anymore. You know my answer, and it will not change. I know what I am doing, and so do you. We will have to live wiz it. Recharge. We will be zere soon enough, but zere is still a a great deal to travel. I will online you when we are on Odessyx, Princess."

"I do not want to recharge," he hisses, upset that he is being told to go nap like some sparkling. "I will stay here, ready for any possible attack that might come on our ship. I will not-"

Blitzwing slips the finger inside his mouth this time to stifle his protests, "Rest, Princess. I do not say zis because I zink you less capable. I say zis because I know zat you will be put through much when we return. You will need ze recharge."

He pulls his head away, "I wi-"

The triple-changer sighs softly, "Please, Princess? I want to make sure zat you are safe and enjoy zat I have you in my lap. I will be wizout you after zis, and I want to watch _you_ recharge for once. Instead of you sneaking in and not allowing me zat privilege."

The bot doesn't play fair, and he knows that isn't the real reason. But having it put that way means he can not protest it. He nods reluctantly, "But you have to online me the moment we are close."

"I will. And I will do nozing untoward to your frame while you recharge. Not like my lord." Blitzwing pets his back, and Oil Slick reluctantly decides to recharge.

* * *

**Please Review**


	6. Chapter 6

Okay! Last chapter! Yeah! Man, I am so dizzy. Anyway, I remembered in editing this one that ffdotnet cuts out the linebreaks. WHOOPS. I'll be going back and fixing that after I do this author's note. Maybe I will add in author's notes in previous chapters? RETROACTIVE AUTHOR'S NOTES, GUYS. WOW. You don't even know how badly my meds are messing me up. I can't even feel my face. Is that even supposed to happen?

Anyway. There is porn in this chapter. You should check that out in my journal. Link in my profile. Yeah.

My birthday is on Monday. Isn't that great?

Transformers belongs to Hasbro.

* * *

"-line, Oil Slick," he slowly onlines his optics, and studies the bot holding him. Oil Slick feels warm, and comfortable, and he finds Blitzwing's frame to be very soft and pleasant to lay on. He shifts and smiles up at him.

"Are we close now?"

Blitzwing rubs his back, nodding, "Ja. Just about to land, in fact. I would have onlined you earlier, but Kings Powerdrive and Steelbolt contacted me to tell me not to. Zey saw you and insisted I let you stay in recharge longer. You are to go straight to ze medic."

He shifts a little closer to the bot, "And what about you?"

Blitzwing stills, no longer petting him, "I am to have a ... private talk wiz Prince Optimus. He wanted to talk to me about you."

Ah. That could be either a wonderful thing or a terrible one, depending on aspects of Optimus's culture that Oil Slick is not entirely sure of. He knows that as soon as it is revealed that his spark is still innocent, Blitzwing will not be harmed. Beyond that . . he is not sure.

Oil Slick leans up and kisses him chastely, on one cheek. "Thank you, Sir Blitzwing. Optimus will treat you fairly as soon as I inform him of what a noble bot you are."

Blitzwing gives him a small, sad smile, "You will not be talking to him, Princess. You are to go to ze medic, and I am to go to Optimus. I was told zat it will be on opposite sides of ze castle."

His spark freezes in his chest, unsure if he likes that. Being so far away means that it is more likely Optimus _will_ be offlining Blitzwing in Megatron's place. The idea of it terrifies him. He knows better than to say it, since Blitzwing already knows this, and talking about it will only worry him even more.

The ship lands lightly, and he steels himself to go to the medic.

* * *

Optimus paces back and forth in the room, waiting impatiently for Blitzwing to show up. He isn't sure how much he _likes_ the mech; not since he spent a very long time listening to Oil Slick praise the bot as he grew up. The mech is competition for the bot he is _kind of sure_ he loves. He isn't really sure if he loves Oil Slick or not, but the thought of the cyclebot makes his spark pulse and engine rev.

He's not sure what he's going to do if Oil Slick has interfaced Blitzwing. Honor requires that he offline Blitzwing and cast Oil Slick out for his treachery, but there is no way he can do that and consider himself a just mech. There is nothing just in punishing bots for making the best of a bad situation.

Now, if Blitzwing has touched Oil Slick against his will, Optimus is willing to use the shiny energon axe he was given to give Blitzwing a swift offlining.

If Oil Slick is untouched, there are just as many problems. He can offer Oil Slick for a bondmate, which he does not want to do. He can also offer a monetary or object reward, which would be more suitable and acceptable.

And the last option, well . . .

He's pulled from his pacing and musing by the bot in question stepping into the room.

The mech stands in front of him for a long moment, then bows, "You called for me, Prince Optimus?"

Oil Slick's gushing about the mech being an honorable mech may not have just been hearsay. That makes him happier and a little more nervous. "I have a few questions for you, Sir Blitzwing." He waves to a bench, "Sit down."

The bot looks reluctant, but does as he's bid, "Of course, Prince Optimus."

He wonders if the bot had seen pictures of him before, since the triple-changer hasn't stared at his spark or looked at him in any scrutinizing way that every other bot has when they first meet him. The bot just acts like a honorable knight. He looks at the triple-changer for a long moment, "Oil Slick," Blitzwing's optics brighten at the name, and he isn't sure how he feels about that, "tells me you are a just and honorable knight." He takes a step forward, "Is this true?"

"No," Blitzwing lowers his optics. "I am not an honorable knight. I disobeyed my liege and have brought shame upon my name. It was . . a very difficult choice to make. To do what he asked would have brought shame _and_ suffering, and . . I accept the punishments that will be coming to me."

A very noble knight indeed, if he was suggesting what Optimus thinks he is. "Lord Megatron asked you to do something to Princess Oil Slick?" He leans in, "Did you do it?"

"Neine," Blitzwing protests loudly. "I would never do such a zing to ze Princess. I have brought . . her back to you untouched and safe."

He notes the pause before the 'her,' and raises an optic ridge, "Did you really?"

The bot flinches, "To ze best of my knowledge, ja."

He isn't sure if he likes that. He doesn't want Oil Slick to have been molested and sparkraped. But he has something else he wants to ask, and he knows that he will be commed and told if Oil Slick is still allowed to bond with him - how he hopes he can, he does not want any other bot unless it is _with_ Oil Slick. "Is there any reason you paused before calling my princess 'her'?"

The triple-changer looks uncomfortable, and he is certain the mech knows Oil Slick's secret. It terrifies him to think that, since he will need to rush the ceremony if the public finds out he isn't a femme.

And if Oil Slick was not pure, he was going to have to elope with the bot. He was not going to let Oil Slick be disgraced. It might indeed be bad luck for him to bond with Oil Slick if he had been used, but Optimus did not hold to tradition as thoroughly as his creators did.

Not when he's spent many megacycles being taught how to bind a bot to a berth by a ninjabot.

Blitzwing looks away, "Zat is not my right to say. I sometimes hesitate in my speech when my ozer personalities wish to come to ze forefront. It does not mean anyzing about ze Princess."

He was told about the other personalities, but is still unconvinced that Blitzwing doesn't know. "And why would you need to flip to Hothead or Random for that?"

The triple-changer looks uncomfortable, "... no reason. Ze personality is called 'Random' for a reason, ja?"

Oil Slick told him that he'd _never_ seen Blitzwing's Random face really out, so he isn't sure how to respond to that, but he feels like the mech is lying to him. He is about to press when he gets a com from his Papa Powerdrive, "Optimus?"

He puts his servo to his temple, "Yes, papa?"

"You... you may bond with Oil Slick. H-.. She is untouched. You are going to be doing it within the megacycle, since Megatron knows about Oil Slick. Her plates were stuck in the open position, and her hip panels cut off. We will be leaving her in the dress that Blitzwing put her in so she can keep her modesty."

"Thank you, papa. I will contact you shortly." He disconnects the call and stares at Blitzwing. "You know he is a mech." It's not a question at all.

Blitzwing lowers his optics, "Yes. I do."

Optimus stares at him, and thinks of all the ways the mech could ruin things for them, and then . . "You will be bonding with us." Again, it is not a question. "Polish yourself and prepare for a triad-bond. Your Lord will be notified and compensated for the loss of a loyal knight." It will keep the mech silent no matter what, and will serve to keep Megatron silent as well. He would not want to admit that his knight had been stolen after he had botnapped a femme who had turned out to be a mech.

The bot's optics widen, staring at him in disbelief, "I... I could no-"

He throws a polishing cloth at the bot, "You returned my intended to me untouched, even as he had his plates open. You kept his spark hidden and safe. He... " he forces himself to continue, "He _adores_ you. You will take this instead of any other reward."

The bot's venting speeds up, "I... if you do not wish for me to be wiz you, I understand. I did not do zis for a reward, even zough I ... I adore Princess Oil Zlick as well. He has..." The bot looks away, trailing off.

It hurts his spark to see that, and he frowns, "Did Oil Slick refuse you the reward of you taking his servo in bonding?"

The mech shakes his head, "He told me it is my right, but I knew zat you should be wiz him. I could not take him when I could not..." The mech blushes for some reason, two tiny spots of red, high on his cheeks, "Nevermind, Prince Optimus. I will polish myself up and do as you order."

"Good." He presses his fingers to his temple, dreading this part. "Papa Steelbolt? Tell the templebot to prepare for a triad-bond." He winces at his papa's surprised and then angry questions. "No, Papa. It is necessary. Get the bot ready, or I will cause a scandal by bringing a third bot to a ceremony only designed for two."

It is a potent threat, and one that has his papa disconnecting and hopefully rushing off to do as asked.

Blitzwing looks over at him, then reaches over to take his servo, "Are... are you sure zat you want zis?"

He both does and doesn't, actually. He wants Oil Slick all to himself, not wanting to share the bot he adores. But he also knows that Oil Slick adores Blitzwing, and he doesn't want his bonded to hate him for having the opportunity to do this and not doing it at all. He lifts the servo to his mouth, kissing it cautiously, "I am." The triple-changer _is_ very handsome, and Oil Slick was not kidding about how hot the accent is.

He is tugged into the mech's lap, and there's a sudden flip to the black and red face Oil Slick had said was called Random. The bot yanks him into a kiss, one filled with the most amount of glossa he's ever experienced. Blitzwing pulls away, cackling, "Good! I have wanted you for a long time, along wiz Oil Zlick."

"Most bots want me. It is not exactly a surprise," although the amount of glossa that Random was hiding certainly _was_. "Now, finish preparing yourself. This will be recorded for the public, even if the guest list has been downsized to those bots currently remaining in our castle." He rubs himself off with the cloth quickly, wanting to look respectable.

Oil Slick will not be expecting the triad-bond, but that is a part of Oddesyx's culture, and not his own. He should be surprised by Blitzwing's presence. Hopefully in a good way.

"We will be painting chains for bonding bands on him. I expect you to paint a nice one, or make your mark a solid ring."

The bot flips back to Icy, optics dim, "Will I be allowed to paint a chain for you?" The mech rubs a servo along his side, some how lighting up pleasure nodes that have his spark pulsing, "I zink you would look so pretty wiz zem, ja?"

He squirms in the bot's hold, wishing he could calm his suddenly wanting spark, "I... I... If that is what you want, I will not say no." No wonder Oil Slick wanted to 'face the bot, he didn't know that it was possible to just _touch_ him and he is hot. "I am not sure how much I like chains, but I was willing to try them if Oil Slick wanted them on me. The same applies to you." He pauses, "Do you know how a triad-bond works?"

"Ja. Zere are many seekers on New Kaon, and triad-bonds are very similar in dynamic to trine-bonds. Except I will be allowed to tie you up wizout having to get my flock-leader's permission, and zeir is no trine-leader in a triad-bond. In zeory, we are all equals." He lowers his optics, "But we know zat is not true. I am a knight, and you two are royalty. But Oil Zlick is a submissive femme and you are a crystal mech who is expected to also be submissive in ze berz. Bots will not know what to make of us."

He kind of wishes Blitzwing would move his servo to his plates and play with them, but is also glad the mech keeps the touches more innocent. He doesn't think he'd be able to say no if Blitzwing wants to 'face him. "I-it doesn't matter. We will do whatever fits us best." He pauses, moving so he's holding the triple-changer's servo, and smiling shyly, "I'm glad that I'm not bonding to bots I hate, though. My bonding will go a lot smoother than my creators' did."

Blitzwing kisses his knuckles, "I need to contact Lord Megatron, and tell him zat you are ordering me into a bonding so zat he releases me from his service."

"No." Optimus orders him. "You will do no such thing. If you inform him before the bond takes place, he has the right to order you not to. You will do as you are told and accept your place in our bond, and _I_ will contact your liege after and inform him that you are no longer his."

Blitzwing shakes his head, "Nein. I must inform him-"

Optimus covers his mouth with a servo. "You will inform him of nothing. Must I order your internal coms to be closed?" Blitzwing looks conflicted before reluctantly shaking his head. He pulls his servo away, and presses a quick kiss to the mech's mouth. "Good." He slips off Blitzwing's lap, wishing his spark wasn't so warm. He'd like to go off to a washrack to frag his spark, but he can't really do that right now. "Finish cleaning up. We need to be ready in time for the bonding."

Bitzwing looks at him with dim optics, looking like he wants to say something before turning away. "As you wish, Prince Optimus."

He pulls out a cloth, and works on his own frame, "We won't be able to do the paint now, but that is not actually expected in a triad-bond, thankfully."

Blitzwing pulls out several jars of paint from a side cabinet after rifling around a bit, and then carefully applies a few streaks of gold to his sparkplates, before putting a few stripes of green on Optimus.

He stares down at his chest. "This is hardly enough paint."

Blitzwing shrugs, "It is a matter of symbolism. Ze bots will want to know zat we have completed our bond, and it is easy enough to smear ze colors on each ozer as long as we have a bit of zem on us. It is better zan nozing."

He sighs softly, "Oil Slick will be wearing that... dress that you put on him. And his plates are stuck in the open position. We won't have paint to smear."

The triple-changer just shrugs again, "We can apply it before we use his spark. It does not matter."

He sighs, looking down at the ground. "We need to get to the areas near the chapel, or we'll miss the ceremony. And I will _not_ be late for my bonding to Oil Slick."

Blitzwing puts both servos on his hips, touching the seams to make his spark pulse a little more, "I do not want to be late, eizer, meine Optimus."

Optimus flushes, and pushes the servos off of him. "Yes. That's fantastic, but we are going to do this now. Properly. You cannot be groping me as we go in." He flips to Random, and Optimus backs away, "No more kisses until we are painted." He walks out of the room, hoping Blitzwing will follow.

The soft sound of peds behind him means that the bot is obediently trailing along behind him, the appropriate position for the third bot being brought into a bonding without the other bot's knowledge.

He doesn't bother to turn around, since it isn't appropriate even if he'd like to. They make it to the area, and his creators are already there. He waves his servo behind him, "Papas, this is Bl-"

He's tugged over by Powerdrive, "Blitzwing, we know, sparkling, we know." The triple-changer is glared at, "It is bad luck to bond with a bot that has 'faced before, sparkling. Are you su-"

He cuts his papa off, "Yes. This is what he chose as his reward. And since he brought back Oil Slick, risking his own spark to do it, I can do no less. His demand is well within my ability, and a _traditional_ reason. You are the one that read me the story about the Allspark blessing triad-bonds and especially ones like this."

His creators look uncomfortable, and Steelbolt says, "All three of them were virgins in that story, sparkling."

He crosses his arms, "No they were not. You just don't want to admit I'm right about this."

"They were pure sparked bots-"

Optimus snorts, "Papas, if you think I didn't find the original, unedited version of that legend, you are being foolish. You may have liked reading me Glosswing's interpretations of the myths, but the originals transcribed by Translock are far better. And in those, _none_ of the bots were pure-sparked. In fact, the crystal mech had been interfacing since puberty."

They give him an unhappy look, and Powerdrive sighs softly. "Very well, sparkling. We will let you bond with the ... the honorable knight Blitzwing."

He smiles, "I'm glad you saw it my way, papas." He may be hesitant about getting bonded, but he's not going to let them declare that Blitzwing isn't allowed in. Not when he needs the mech with them to help keep the secret that Oil Slick is a mech. Besides, he does rather like how the bot touches him. He looks forward to 'facing him, just like he does with Oil Slick.

It will be . . . interesting, having his first be with two bots instead of one.

Assuming that Oil Slick agrees to the bond.

He hears the bells, and kisses both of his papas on the cheeks. "Thank you, papas. Let's go now. I want to finish this bond. I have been waiting too long now."

They walk him down the aisle, and Blitzwing follows behind them. He can see that Oil Slick is confused as to why he had to walk earlier-the cyclebot is already kneeling at the altar. This is traditional for triad-bonds. For triad-bonds where one bot is unaware that a third is being brought forward, at least.

He kneels directly in front of the altar, Oil Slick on his right, and Blitzwing goes to his left. He smiles as he takes each of their servos in his, and sends a quick message, just before the templebot can cut it off, _I got you a triple-changer for our bonding gift, Oil Slick. I hope he's to your liking._

The cyclebot's optics widen just as the private messages get cut off, and he smiles even more at the sudden loud rev from Oil Slick's engine. The mech is _made_ for speed, so it is very loud, indeed.

He doesn't stop his smug smirk at that.

Oil Slick is venting rather hard, and Blitzwing is looking unsure what that is about, but not able to ask. He squeezes their servos reassuringly, and pays half attention to the templebot's sermon. It is only slighty different than the usual bonding one, but not by much.

The difference comes when it is time to paint. In theory, they are to paint each other simultaneously, but it never works that way. Instead, they signal a bit of which bot asked who with the order of painting, and Optimus picks up the brush first. He has to paint Oil Slick, and then Blitzwing. Oil Slick then returns the favor, and Blitzwing, their newest addition, will paint last.

He takes Oil Slick's servo, carefully working the tiny detail of chain links all the way around the claw. He kind of wants to work it up the servo, but he knows he'll be allowed to access the paint later to do a more complete job of it. At least he'll be able to get it sooner than his own creators did, since they had taken the opportunity during the bonding to try to ruin each other's paint as badly as possible. Papa Steelbolt has his entire flat of his servo painted because he had been planning on slapping Papa Powerdrive across the face. Instead Papa Powerdrive just has fingerprints along his frame in addition to a splatter from the brush being flicked at him.

He turns to Blitzwing, starting to draw a chain only for Blitzwing to shake his head. Looking at the triple changer, he bites his lower lip and paints a simple band on it. He will add decorations later. For now, he will accept just Oil Slick with the chain band.

He offers the brush to Oil Slick, and the mech takes his servo and holds it close, working on painting something with only the very tip of the brush. He has to dip it in the paint frequently, and Optimus waits impatiently to see what his bondmate is doing.

When Oil Slick finally releases his servo to work on Blitzwing, Optimus lifts it to study the work.

What at first looks like a simple ring of paint is in fact, tiny bits of Ancient sketched into a ring shape, the old runes and characters twining together in sinuous lines. He's going to have to look it up later to see what it says.

Blitzwing is handed the brush when Oil Slick is finished with his, and Optimus has his servo taken as the triple-changer paints a tiny chain on his finger. He smiles at it, wondering if the mech plans on adding more later, as well. He'd rather like that.

Oil Slick is given another band of chains, and the brush is put in the pot. Optimus belatedly notices that the paint from before, that spilled when Megatron botnapped Oil Slick, is still on the ground. He wonders if they will have to take out that entire section of floor to replace it, or if they will keep it for the story.

Standing up, he kisses Oil Slick then Blitzwing, and his engine revs softly at the sight of them kissing each other. He is _very_ glad that they are to go straight to the consummation room, and use each other's sparks. He doesn't think he'd be _able_ to wait until later.

The templebot continues to offer words of advice and blessing as they walk out of the room, and Optimus hears not a single one of them.

* * *

Optimus studies the room, admiring how nicely it has been decorated. The berth is going to be a bit on the small side with the three of them in it, but they'll manage. He kisses Oil Slick, letting his servos move over the bot's frame the way he's always wanted to, sliding them up under the long skirt, pausing suddenly when he feels something strange on Oil Slick's legs. "What is this?" he asks, giving it a tug.

Oil Slick shifts a tiny bit, a little blush on his face, "Megatron..." the bot looks away, "Megatron put me in chains."

He frowns, touching them again, "And you left them on?"

Oil Slick rubs against him, "The medic wasn't sure how to take them off, and they didn't want to rip the dress. We only had a megacycle until we got bonded, Optimus."

He rubs their chests together, looking over at Blitzwing, "Do you know how to take them off?"

The triple-changer nods, "But I zink you should look at zem before you say we should leave zem off, Optimus." The mech nibbles at his neck cabling, and he relaxes into the touch, spark flaring with heat. "He looks _so pretty_ wiz zem on, and we didn't even have to go zrough ze work of doing it ourselves. It is not easy to do, and we already have him all wrapped up like a present."

"Show me," Optimus requests, and watches as the other mech strips for them, removing his metal mesh dress. The first thing he notices is Oil Slick's spark, which is beautiful and shining blue, like the filthiest, most perfect gift. Then he notices the chains.

They are delicate-looking chains, but he had felt them, and they were very strong materials. They wrap around Oil Slick's frame like a lover's caress, wrapping him in complex patterns and diamonds that outline his spark and emphasize his narrow waist. A few hang in messy tangles at the bot's hips, where his hip panels had once been.

He reaches over, touching the chains, "Are you hurting?"

Oil Slick gives him a slightly shy look, "Not a lot. I can live without my panels, and we can just put a temporary fix for now. The medic gave me this," Oil Slick pulls out a nanomachine paste that will numb the pain and fix the damage so that they can replace the panels later. "Would... would you like to put it on me?"

He nods, taking the paste, and kissing his bonded. "Get on the berth."

* * *

The next morning, he is the first one up, slipping out of the single cuff he was still in. He was right about being onlined soon, and had lost _count_ of how many overloads he had with his bondeds. It was a very great deal, that's for sure, but he is going to go get _fuel_. They had eaten the candy bows off the chain that Oil Slick had in his subspace, but it is time to head out of the consummation room, and prove that they used each other's sparks. He dims his optics, and he certainly _did_ use their sparks. Planning on using them again later, in fact.

Of course, when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror in the washrack, he thinks it might be a bad idea to go out.

He's glowing.

Still.

Glowing rather brightly, in fact, bright enough to leave a sort of soft, fuzzy haze around him.

If either of his bondeds make a joke about it, he's going to slap a mouthclamp on them. One of the ones with the open rings that allow sparklicking. He doesn't have one, but he bets Blitzwing does.

He's joined soon by a loose limbed cyclebot, and is nuzzled lovingly. "You were not in the berth next to me. That isn't very fair." Servos drift along his chest as Oil Slick rubs his spark along his back, "Would you have left me alone in the berth if we didn't have Blitzwing?"

He pushes into his bonded, "Maybe. We can't have a morning 'face, though. There are confirmations to be done."

Oil Slick nibbles his neck, sucking on the cables, "Says the bot getting the paint cleaned off of him in the washrack."

Optimus flushes, "I am not under the solvents yet. I just wanted to get rid of a little bit of it. Make it look less like I was mauled and more like I had a respectable frag."

"There's no such thing as a respectable frag," Oil Slick murmurs, and steps back, trying to push his sparkplates shut. "Fragging things are still stuck open."

Optimus rests his servos on the plates and tries to shut them, but fails. "You will have to wear the dress again."

Oil Slick sighs softly, "I can't put it on by myself." The mech waves his claws at him, "I'll cut it apart if I try."

He smiles, "Want me to help?"

The cyclebot wiggles his hips , "Yes, but you should use my spark first. I want the morning 'face that we _should_ have."

Optimus chuckles softly, servos gentle as he tugs the bot close, and squeezes the tempting aft firmly, loving the feel. "No." He kisses his bonded, "I want to do more on a more comfortable berth. We'll have more fun if we're in the room we were given."

"Perhaps," Oil Slick admits, offering his arm to Optimus, guiding him out of the washrack. "But I feel we should test it more thoroughly. It's only on the opposite side of the castle. It wouldn't take more than a klik or two to get there, and then we could see if-"

"If we can tie you down to ze berz zere as well?" Blitzwing asks, stroking Oil Slick's aft possessively. "You two look so beautiful in ze chains."

Optimus's engine revs as his aft is squeezed as well, "We'll confirm that we 'faced, get the quick spark exam to test us for sparklings, and go to the berthroom." He offlines his optics to better enjoy the feeling of his bondeds sucking on both sides of his neck, "We..." He moans softly, pushing them away gently, "We are going to put Oil Slick in the dress now."

Blitzwing flips to Random instantly, "We will have to make _you_ a dress, meine Optimus!" The triple-changer rubs at his plates, "Possibly a very _sheer_ metal mesh for you, ja?"

"No. There's no need for a dress for me," Optimus complains, slipping out of their arms. "I am happy the way I am. I am used to being bare. Having no armor that hides my spark in any way. We need to keep Oil Slick's spark a secret, but mine is well-known."

Blitzwing hums, "Zat is why it would be very sheer so zat we could still admire ze way your armor glows and your spark lights up ze room."

He makes a face at that, "I'm hoping the glow goes away."

He's tugged back, and kissed by Icy, "Nein, you have been 'faced, our Optimus." The mech's servos rub his plates, "Your spark is so happy, and if Oil Zlick and I do what we are supposed to, you will _always_ glow like zis." The triple-changer revs slightly, "We will just have to keep overloading you over and over."

Oil Slick looks at him with dim optics, purring out, "It will be _such_ a hardship. Fragging the only crystal mech there is currently, and our bonded in addition to that." The cyclebot rubs his spark against his chest, "How ever can we do it?"

A flush dusts his cheeks, and he pushes them off of him, "You two are fraggers and aftheads and many other insulting things I can't think of right now." Optimus tugs himself free from their grasping servos as they try to pull him back. "We need to go out, and I'm glowing like a sparkling nightlight."

Oil Slick grins, "I wasn't going to say it, but . . you really are. Same soft fuzzy light and all."

He sighs softly, and picks up the dress from where they dropped it. "We are not talking about this right now. Let's get everything over with. I want to keep 'facing you both, but we need to get this done."

Blitzwing nips at his headfin, taking the dress from him, and moving it so it slips onto Oil Slick easily, "I would like to have you in my arms as we do zis, but it would be improper." The triple-changer freezes, and says, "I need to tell Lord Megatron zat I-"

He puts his servo over his bonded's mouth. "You don't have to tell him anything. I am the one that will contact him. You are my bonded, and I took you as payment so that we did not go to war over the botnapping of Oil Slick."

"Payment," the bot chuckles, and then flips to Random, "I zink I will have to repay you wiz teaparties and overloads!"

He just nods, humoring the mech. "Of course. I would have it no other way." He slips out the door and walks with Oil Slick at his side, their less stable lover trailing along behind them, apparently admiring their afts, if the little murmured noises of appreciation are any indication of his activity.

He slips his arm around Oil Slick's waist, pausing when he feels a slight give to the back of the dress. Stopping the bot from walking, he pushes on the metal mesh, and Oil Slick's optics flicker. The cyclebot squirms against his servo, "I must have left the gascap in the room."

He nods slowly, "Blitzwing?"

The mech moves closer, kissing them both, "I will go get it, zen." The bot looks around the hall for a moment, then pulls Optimus into a very demanding kiss, squeezing his aft possessively, "I zink zat we should work out a schedule to keep you glowing at all times, ja?"

"No. I think we don't need a _schedule_ for our interfacing." He gasps and moans helplessly when the bot rubs his sparkplates just right, heating his spark up until it's pulsing visibly inside of him. "I . . stop trying to change my mind. I'm not overloading on schedule for you. For any reason." Not even for a sparkling, which would do better with random charge times anyways.

Blitzwing nibbles on his neck, "Maybe we will try it later on." He's kissed softly, and the bot pulls away, "I will go get ze gascap."

He watches the bot go, and Oil Slick cuddles up to him. Petting his meeker lover, he murmurs, "Do you think he's going to try to get you to overload on a schedule?"

Oil Slick's optics flicker at the thought of it. "As long as it isn't once a sol or every megacycle, I wouldn't object."

"You are so submissive," Optimus murmurs, squeezing his hips. "We need to have your panels replaced, assuming you want them again."

Oil Slick has spent his entire life with them, and Optimus is fairly certain the bot will want them back. When his lover nods, Optimus kisses his cheek.

"Let's get you to the medicbot so we can have you fixed up." He pauses, "Or . . I suppose we should visit the fragging templebot so he can say that we are legally bonded. We don't want Megatron stealing Blitzwing on a technicality."

Oil Slick makes a soft, upset sound, cuddling close. "Yes. I want to keep him with us forever."

He smiles, spark happy at the thought of both of his bondeds staying with him for all time. "I do, too." He wasn't really _expecting_ to want a third bot in this, but it feels good to have the bot with them. "We're going to have to chain him down at some point."

Oil Slick gives him a blank look, and it does show just how _little_ the cyclebot wants to top when the mech says, "If you want to. Will... will I be chained down as well?"

"If you want, sweetspark," he says, unwilling to make Oil Slick do things he does not enjoy. "Will you at least try it once before you have me chain the both of you?"

Oil Slick dims his optics, "I suppose so. It might be . . . nice, to try it, just once." He rubs against Optimus suggestively, leaning in to whisper, "If this dress was better, it would have parts you could remove to access my spark underneath without any bot knowing."

His servo drifts to the skirt, "I'd like to be able to just slip into a slit on the skirt and be able to squeeze your aft."

The mech makes a tiny sound to encourage his touch, "We'll have to see about asking Blitzwing."

The triple-changer walks over as Icy, "Asking me what?"

He takes the gascap, putting it in his subspace, "If you will make Oil Slick new dresses. Ones with access hatches for bits of him we want to use."

Blitzwing hums and flips to Random, who has an unusually calculating expression on his face, "I will make him many pretty dresses if you agree to let me measure you for some of zem too, Optimus. Maybe somezing pretty for your helm as well. A little hat, or somezing all feazery and poofy wiz lace."

He sighs softly, "We can discuss this after we have our bonding confirmed."

Blitzwing kisses him and Oil Slick, "Zen we should stop stalling, ja?"

He smiles, pulling Blitzwing to his other side, and holding the bot close, "I fully agree. And you should stay next to us. You are our bonded, and I will not have you ignored."

"Zank you," Blitzwing tries to fall a bit back again, "but I know zat zis bond does not make me royalty. I should show my respect for your stations in public, at ze very least. It is important zat I respect you boz. I do not want bots zinking zat because I dominate you in ze berz, zat I have undue influence on your decisions outside of it."

He tugs the mech back, "You can be proper later. Right now, I want my _bonded_ to stay next to me so I can kiss him."

The bot flips back to Icy, "I shou-"

Oil Slick reaches over, taking the triple-changer's servo, "Did you know that my writing on the bonding band I gave you tells you how much I adore you both? How I know I'll love you forever?" The cyclebot squeezes the both of their servos, "Stay by us, Blitzwing."

"If you insist," the triple-changer says cautiously, clearly unhappy with claiming a station he sees as too high above himself. He will just have to get used to standing at their side. Perhaps Decepticons would accept him behind them, but Optimus and Oil Slick were neutrals.

Optimus was a neutral with strong Autobot leanings at that.

He wasn't going to have a lover who thought he was below them in any way.

Other than below them on the berth.

And Blitzwing certainly didn't think that at all.

He rubs his side against the mech, and Blitzwing vents a small sigh, "I should mo-"

He squeezes the bot's servo, "You should stay next to us. I'm not king yet, and Oil Slick isn't queen. We will be phasing into our jobs slowly over several decavorns. You are just going to have to get use to the fact that we will want to cuddle and kiss you."

"If that is your wish, meine leibes, I will do my best to fulfill it." Blitzwing bends down and kisses each of them, and hums when they kiss him back.

Side by side, they walk to the room where the templebot is waiting, and stride inside together, Optimus glowing brightly between his bondeds. He's going to have to get used to that. It's going to take a very long time to get used to glowing like a sparkling nightlight all sol long. He wonders how long it will take for the light to fade.

The bot looks at him, and says flatly, "Well, we know that _you_ consummated bond." The mech looks over at Blitzwing, then studdies the triple-changer's chest for a moment, "You as well." The templebot points at Oil Slick, "She needs to remove the covering so I can see her chest. She could be hiding the fact that you didn't 'face her. You _did_ bring the third in rather quickly. It could have been a set up so you didn't have to do anything with her."

Optimus glares, holding Oil Slick's waist tightly, "She still can not close her plates, and would be flashing hr spark if we removed the dress. I don't _care_ that you're supposed to confirm it. If you're going to try to make her go around completely exposed, we'll just go to the medic."

The temple bot, rather than getting ruffled or accepting their demands, simply offers them a small sheet of metal with sticky edges, designed to serve as a very quick patch. "Then she may cover her spark, but for the bonding to be confirmed, I must see her chest."

Optimus pulls the gascap out of subspace and slides his servos down the collar of Oil Slick's dress, fitting it in place, resisting the urge to sneak a grope or two in. Switching sides, he places the metal sheet over Oil Slick's sparkchamber, and then helps him remove the dress. "Are you satisfied now, templebot?" he asks, deceptively mild as he loops an arm around Oil Slick's waist to pull him close. "Have you humiliated her enough for the sol?"

The bot looks at him flatly, "If anyone is humiliated, I'm surprised it isn't you, Prince Optimus. You always _hid_ when you glowed after self-servicing, and now you'll never stop unless you want everyone to know you're no longer happy in the berth."

He refuses to blush, just glaring at the mech, "Confirm the consummation so that we can leave."

The templebot looks slightly smug as he looks at Oil Slick's chest, tapping at the chains still decorating the cyclebot, "These should not have been there, but I am willing to let it go because everything was so unconventional already." The mech waves a servo at the door, "Your bonding is nice and legal. Go to the medic for your sparkling scan and then to your room or whatever it is you want to do this sol."

Optimus rushes out of the room, leaving his lovers to stare bemusedly after him.

He can hear Blitzwing ask, "So, he used to glow from ze self-service very often?"

So fragging embarrassing now. There was a limit to what he could stand.

* * *

Oil Slick vents slowly, staring at the results of the scan on the screen in front of them.

"You mean Optimus is _really_ . . . ?" It seems so impossible, after the very first night. It almost never-

"Yes," the medic interrupts. Red Alert had followed him here, as part of his . . . dowry, for lack of a better term. His creators had wanted a medic used to dealing with his mech spark. "Optimus is carrying a sparkling. A femme sparkling, if the scans are right."

He cuddles against the both of his lovers, unsure what to say for a long moment, then asks, "Which of us is the other creator?"

She looks at him for a little bit, then shrugs, "I'm not sure, princess. I'm not _Ratchet_ for Primus's sake. That bot can tell just by looking at a spark if they are carrying. _I_ need a complicated spark scan to do that. I can com him and have him come to look, or you can wait a few decacycles. Ratchet isn't cheap, but since this is a femme sparkling, he may insist on being hired on. Which would lower his rates and make all future sparklings easier."

"We'll think about it," Optimus says, rubbing his sparkplates absently. Blitzwing taps on them, and the bot opens up for him once more, letting the ex-Decepticon lean in to study his spark, and loudly declare,

"I do not see anyzing on his spark yet. You are very good wiz ze scans."

Optimus's spark is certainly brighter than usual, but Oil Slick had put that off on the bot being exceptionally well-sated with overload. He hadn't even suspected that Optimus might be carrying already.

Red Alert pushes them to the door, "Thank you, Sir Blitzwing, but now you can all get out of the medical bay. I need to work on settling in, and the bot here had refused to let me start until just a megacycle ago."

Oil Slick slips away from his bondeds to pull Red Alert into a hug, "I'm glad you're here."

She rolls her optics, patting his back, "You need to remove the chains on you before the sol is over. I don't want you coming in here because your paint is flaking from it." She gives him a datapad, "I looked up how to do it, and here are instructional datapads. There are also a few cables and other chains in your rooms. It was a nightmare getting them in, but your creators are used to getting their way. Be glad, sparkling."

"Oh, I am," Oil slick kisses her cheek. "Thank you medic Red Alert." He yelps as he's picked up by Blitzwing, and Optimus is scooped up as well, the pair of them held tightly against his chest.

"Zank you, but we will be leaving now. Zere are many zings for us to do zis sol, and I feel ze need to offer energy to our new sparkling."

Oil Slick curls up against Optimus, smiling at him, "We're having a sparkling already, Optimus. Can you believe it?" It normally took _vorns_ or longer. They were blessed.

He's kissed softly, "My creators will not be surprised, my line normally sparks quickly. Granted, this is much sooner than usual." The bot squeezes his aft, "And a femme, that would be your line showing. It is _very_ rare for mine to get a femme."

Oil Slick shrugs, "Or it could be Blitzwing's?" He turns to their triple-changer, "Does your family normally have femmes?"

Blitzwing shrugs, "My line is not well documented, meine Oil Zlick. My creators were boz mechs."

"Are either of them still-"

"Nein. Zey have boz been offline for some time now. I am quite a bit older zan boz of you, and most of ze family I once had is gone now." He squeezes their afts, "So it is good zat we are starting one togezer. Zey will be ze cutest sparklings ever." He leans in and purrs, "I zink we should focus on filling you wiz a sparkling next, meine Oil Zlick."

He blushes faintly, hiding his face in Blitzwing's chest, "It will be harder since Optimus is with sparkling, though. Sparks exposed to a bot already carrying don't like to for sparklings, so the bot can focus on the one we already have."

Optimus tugs him into a kiss, "I am a blessed bot, Oil Slick. The normal rules are bent for me." He is tugged so he's laying on top of the truckbot, "If we do some things, it is very likely all three of us will carry. I would have to be the co-creator if we do that, but we can do it even if I'm carrying."

"Really?" Oil Slick was not aware of this.

Optimus nods, "Yes. There have been other crystal-framed mechs in my line, in the distant past." He wrinkles his nose a bit, "Hotspark had twenty-seven sparklings with his bondmate before finally deciding to have his sparkling protocols permanently turned off."

"Twenty-seven?"

"Yes." Optimus shakes his head, "They had a _very_ large family."

Blitzwing's spark is hot against them, "Do you zink _we_ will have a family zat large?"

Optimus blushes under him, "Well, maybe. It is also possible that we'll have an even bigger one. It all depends on what we want to do. My papas didn't want to have more sparklings before having me bonded, wanting to make sure that I'd be able to rule the planet with a bot by my side. They are very likely going to start to try for another one soon, since they're also pretty young as well. It only took them about a vorn to have me."

Oil Slick nuzzles into Optimus's chest, his dress rustling softly, "My sister will be ruling Haydon IV, and it took them since having me to get her." His claws drift to Optimus's transformation seams, "I would like a large family."

"As long as I am not carrying sparklings for my entire life, I will be happy to have quite a few with you both," Optimus hums, leaning back to allow more touching.

Blitzwing pets him, "We will be happy to carry zem as well, Optimus. And we will accept transferring as well."

A long-suffering sigh answers them, "Most of the sparklings conceived between us will naturally settle onto my spark. And most of them won't be transferrable because of that."

Oil Slick kisses the truckbot's sparkplates, "Is there a way to make it so that I'm always the one who sparks?"

Optimus shakes his head, "No. I need my protocols down for it to work, and if I put them up, it means were are _all_ not going to get more if you're 'facing me in addition to each other."

Blitzwing walks into the room, and shuts the door, "Zen we will figure _somezing_ out." The mech sets them on the berth, "But it is time to unwrap our Oil Zlick like a present, since ze medic said zat he needed ze chains off."

Oil Slick smiles fondly. He's already starting to fall in love with his bondmates.

The future looks quite bright. And full of chains. Just the way he likes it.

* * *

**Please Review**

So this is the last chapter here. We are planning on writing a sequel eventually. It will involve their sparkling Lickety-Split, who is a crystal femme, saving other bots from danger. Because femmes are awesome. **  
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